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ENGLISH  SEAMEN 


THE   SIXTEENTH   CENTUEY 


The  Works  of  James  Anthony  Froude 
published  by  charles  scribner's  sons 


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^iiH  m 


ENGLISH    SEAMEN 


IN 


THE   SIXTEENTH  CENTURY 


LECTURES  DELIVERED  AT   OXFORD 
EASTER  TERMS,   1898-4 


BT 

JAMES    ANTHONY    FEOUDE 

LATl  BIOIUB  PROFESSOR  OF  MODERN  HISTORY  IN 
THE  UmTKRSITT  OF  OXFORD 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1917 

\AU  rigTits  reserveO] 


COPTBIOHT,  1896,  BT 

CHARLES  SCRIBNES'S  SOUS 


CONTENTS 


LECTUEE  I 
The  Ska  Ckadle  op  the  Reformation,        ...        1 

LECTURE  II 
John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade,        .      26 

LECTURE  III 
Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second,       .        .      50 

LECTURE  IV 
Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World,    ....      75 

LECTURE  V 
Parties  in  the  State, 104 

LECTURE  VI 
The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies,     .        .    ISO 

LECTURE  VII 
Attack  on  Cadiz, 158 

LECTURE  VIII 
Sailing  of  the  Armada, 176 

LECTURE  IX 
Defeat  of  the  Armada, 201 


ENGLISH   SEAMEN 

IN 

THE    SIXTEENTH   CENTURY 
LECTURE  I 

XHE  SEA  OBADLE  OP  THE  REPOEMATION 

Jean  Paul,  the  German  poet,  said  that  God  had 
given  to  France  the  empire  of  the  land,  to  England 
the  empire  of  the  sea,  and  to  his  own  country  the 
empire  of  the  air.  The  world  has  changed  siace 
Jean  Paul's  days.  The  wings  of  France  have  been 
clipped;  the  German  Empire  has  become  a  solid 
thing ;  but  England  stiU  holds  her  watery  dominion ; 
Britannia  does  still  rule  the  waves,  and  in  this 
proud  position  she  has  spread  the  English  race 
over  the  globe  ;  she  has  created  the  great  American 
nation;  she  is  peopling  new  Englands  at  the 
Antipodes ;  she  has  made  her  Queen  Empress  of 
India ;  and  is  in  fact  the  very  considerable  pheno- 
menon in  the  social  and  political  world  which  all 
acknowledge  her  to  be.  And  all  this  she  has 
achieved  in  the  course  of  three  centuries,  entirely 
in  consequence  of  her  predominance  as  an  ocean 
power.     Take  away  her  merchant  fleets ;  take  away 


2        English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

the  navy  that  guards  them  :  her  empire  will  come 
to  an  end ;  her  colonies  will  fall  off,  like  leaves  from 
a  withered  tree ;  and  Britain  will  become  once 
more  an  insignificant  island  in  the  North  Sea,  for 
the  future  students  in  Australian  and  New  Zealand 
universities  to  discuss  the  fate  of  in  their  debating 
societies. 

How  the  English  navy  came  to  hold  so  extra- 
ordinary a  position  is  worth  reflecting  on.  Much 
has  been  written  about  it,  but  little,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  which  touches  the  heart  of  the  matter.  We 
are  shown  the  power  of  our  country  growing  and 
expanding.  But  how  it  grew,  why,  after  a  sleep  of 
so  many  hundred  years,  the  genius  of  our  Scandina- 
vian forefathers  suddenly  sprang  again  into  life — of 
this  we  are  left  without  explanation. 

The  beginning  was  undoubtedly  the  defeat  of  the 
Spanish  Armada  in  1588.  Down  to  that  time  the 
sea  sovereignty  belonged  to  the  Spaniards,  and  had 
been  fairly  won  by  them.  The  conquest  of  Granada 
had  stimulated  and  elevated  the  Spanish  character. 
The  subjects  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  of  Charles 
V.  and  Philip  IL,  were  extraordinary  men,  and  ac- 
complished extraordinary  things.  They  stretched 
the  limits  of  the  known  world ;  they  conquered 
Mexico  and  Peru  ;  they  planted  their  colonies  over 
the  South  American  continent ;  they  took  posses- 
sion of  the  great  West  Indian  islands,  and  with  so 
firm  a  grasp  that  Cuba  at  least  will  never  lose  the 
mark  of  the  hand  which  seized  it.  They  buUt  their 
cities  as  if  for  eternity.     They  spread  to  the  Indian 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Beformation  3 

Ocean,  and  gave  their  monarch's  name  ioih.e Philip- 
pines. All  this  they  accomplished  in  half  a  century, 
and,  as  it  were,  they  did  it  with  a  single  hand ;  with 
the  other  they  were  fighting  Moors  and  Turks  and 
protecting  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean  from  the 
corsairs  of  Tunis  and  Constantinople. 

They  had  risen  on  the  crest  of  the  wave,  and 
with  their  proud  Non  sufficit  orbis  were  looking  for 
new  worlds  to  conquer,  at  a  time  when  the  bark  of 
the  English  water-dogs  had  scarcely  been  heard 
beyond  their  own  fishing  grounds,  and  the  largest 
merchant  vessel  sailing  from  the  port  of  London  was 
scarce  bigger  than  a  modern  coasting  collier.  And 
yet  within  the  space  of  a  single  ordinary  life  these 
insignificant  islanders  had  struck  the  sceptre  from 
the  Spaniards'  grasp  and  placed  the  ocean  crown 
on  the  brow  of  their  own  sovereign.  How  did  it 
come  about?  What  Cadmus  had  sown  dragons' 
teeth  in  the  furrows  of  the  sea  for  the  race  to  spring 
from  who  manned  the  ships  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
who  carried  the  flag  of  their  own  country  round  the 
globe,  and  challenged  and  fought  the  Spaniards  on 
their  own  coasts  and  in  their  own  harbours  ? 

The  English  sea  power  was  the  legitimate  child 
of  the  Reformation.  It  grew,  as  I  shall  show  you, 
directly  out  of  the  new  despised  Protestantism. 
Matthew  Parker  and  Bishop  Jewel,  the  judicious 
Hooker  himself,  excellent  men  as  they  were,  would 
have  written  and  preached  to  small  purpose  with- 
out Sir  Francis  Drake's  cannon  to  play  an  accom- 
paniment to  their  teaching.      And  again,  Drake's 


4        English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

cannon  would  not  have  roared  so  loudly  and  so 
widely  without  seamen  already  trained  in  heart  and 
hand  to  work  his  ships  and  level  his  artillery.  It 
was  to  the  superior  seamanship,  the  superior  quality 
of  English  ships  and  crews,  that  the  Spaniards  at- 
tributed their  defeat.  Where  did  these  ships  come 
from?  Where  and  how  did  these  mariners  learn 
their  trade  ?  Historians  talk  enthusiastically  of  the 
national  spirit  of  a  people  rising  with  a  united  heart 
to  repel  the  invader,  and  so  on.  But  national  spirit 
could  not  extemporise  a  fleet  or  produce  trained  of- 
ficers and  sailors  to  match  the  conquerors  of  Le- 
panto.  One  slight  observation  I  must  make  here 
at  starting,  and  certainly  with  no  invidious  purpose. 
It  has  been  said  confidently,  it  has  been  repeated, 
I  believe,  by  all  modern  writers,  that  the  Spanish 
invasion  suspended  in  England  the  quarrels  of 
creed,  and  united  Protestants  and  Roman  Catholics 
in  defence  of  their  Queen  and  country.  They  re- 
mind us  especially  that  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham, 
who  was  Elizabeth's  admiral,  was  himself  a  Roman 
Catholic.  But  was  it  so?  The  Earl  of  Arundel, 
the  head  of  the  House  of  Howard,  was  a  Roman 
Catholic,  and  he  was  in  the  Tower  praying  for  the  suc- 
cess of  Medina  Sidonia.  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham 
was  no  more  a  Roman  Catholic  than — I  hope  I  am  not 
taking  away  their  character — than  the  present  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  or  the  Bishop  of  London.  He 
was  a  Catholic,  but  an  English  CathoUc,  as  those 
reverend  prelates  are.  Roman  Catholic  he  could 
not  possiHy  have  been,  nor  anyone  who  on  that 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  6 

great  occasion  was  found  on  the  side  of  Elizabeth. 
A  Roman  Catholic  is  one  who  acknowledges  the 
Roman  Bishop's  authority.  The  Pope  had  excom- 
municated Ehzabeth,  had  pronounced  her  deposed, 
had  absolved  her  subjects  from  their  allegiance,  and 
forbidden  them  to  fight  for  her.  No  Englishman 
who  fought  on  that  great  occasion  for  English  lib- 
erty was,  or  could  have  been,  in  communion  with 
Rome.  Loose  statements  of  this  kind,  lightly  made, 
fall  in  with  the  modem  humour.  They  are  caught 
up,  applauded,  repeated,  and  pass  unquestioned  into 
history.    It  is  time  to  correct  them  a  little. 

I  have  in  my  possession  a  detailed  account  of  the 
temper  of  parties  in  England,  drawn  up  in  the  year 
1585,  three  years  before  the  Armada  came.  The 
writer  was  a  distinguished  Jesuit.  The  account  it- 
self was  prepared  for  the  use  of  the  Pope  and  Philip, 
with  a  special  view  to  the  reception  which  an  in- 
vading force  would  meet  with,  and  it  goes  into  great 
detail.  The  people  of  the  towns — London,  Bristol. 
<fec. — were,  he  says,  generally  heretics.  The  peers, 
the  gentry,  their  tenants,  and  peasantry,  who  formed 
the  immense  majority  of  the  population,  were  almost 
universally  Catholics.  But  this  writer  distinguishes 
properly  among  Catholics.  There  were  the  ardent 
impassioned  Catholics,  ready  to  be  confessors  and 
martyrs,  ready  to  rebel  at  the  first  opportunity,  who 
had  renounced  their  allegiance,  who  desired  to  over- 
throw Elizabeth  and  put  the  Queen  of  Scots  in  her 
place.  The  number  of  these,  he  says,  was  daily  in- 
creasing, owing  to  the  exertions  of  the  seminary 


6        English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

priests ;  and  plots,  he  boasts,  were  being  continually 
formed  by  them  to  murder  the  Queen.  There  were 
Catholics  of  another  sort,  who  were  papal  at  heart, 
but  went  with  the  times  to  save  their  property ;  who 
looked  forward  to  a  change  in  the  natural  order  of 
things,  but  would  not  stir  of  themselves  till  an  in- 
vading army  actually  appeared.  But  all  alike,  he 
insists,  were  eager  for  a  revolution.  Let  the  Prince 
of  Parma  come,  and  they  would  all  join  him ;  and 
together  these  two  classes  of  Catholics  made  three- 
fourths  of  the  nation. 

'The  only  party,'  he  says  (and  this  is  really  no- 
ticeable), *the  only  party  that  would  fight  to  death 
for  the  Queen,  the  only  real  friends  she  had,  were 
the  Puritans  (it  is  the  first  mention  of  the  name 
which  I  have  found),  the  Puritans  of  London,  the 
Puritans  of  the  sea  towns.'  These  he  admits  were 
dangerous,  desperate,  determined  men.  The  num- 
bers of  them,  however,  were  providentially  small. 

The  date  of  this  document  is,  as  I  said,  1585,  and 
I  believe  it  generally  accurate.  The  only  mistake 
is  that  among  the  Anglican  Catholics  there  were  a 
few  to  whom  their  country  was  as  dear  as  their 
creed — a  few  who  were  beginning  to  see  that  under 
the  Act  of  Uniformity  Catholic  doctrine  might  be 
taught  and  Catholic  ritual  practised;  who  adhered 
to  the  old  forms  of  religion,  but  did  not  believe  that 
obedience  to  the  Pope  was  a  necessary  part  of  them. 
One  of  these  was  Lord  Howard  of  EflSngham,  whom 
the  Queen  placed  in  his  high  command  to  secure  the 
wavering  fidelity  of  the  peers  and  country  gentle- 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  7 

men.  But  the  force,  the  fire,  the  enthusiasm  came 
(as  the  Jesuit  saw)  from  the  Puritans,  from  men  of 
the  same  convictions  as  the  Calvinists  of  Holland 
and  Erochelle ;  men  who,  driven  from  the  land,  took 
to  the  ocean  as  their  natural  home,  and  nursed  the 
Bef ormation  in  an  ocean  cradle.  How  the  seagoing 
population  of  the  North  of  Europe  took  so  strong  a 
Protestant  impression  it  is  the  purpose  of  these 
lectures  to  explain. 

Henry  VIII.  on  coming  to  the  throne  found  Eng- 
land without  a  fleet,  and  without  a  conscious  sense 
of  the  need  of  one.  A  few  merchant  hulks  traded 
with  Bordeaux  and  Cadiz  and  Lisbon ;  hoys  and  fly- 
boats  drifted  slowly  backwards  and  forwards  between 
Antwerp  and  the  Thames.  A  fishing  fleet  tolerably 
appointed  went  annually  to  Iceland  for  cod.  Local 
fishermen  worked  the  North  Sea  and  the  Channel 
from  Hull  to  Falmouth.  The  Chester  people  went 
to  Kinsale  for  herrings  and  mackerel :  but  that  was 
all — the  nation  had  aspired  to  no  more. 

Columbus  had  offered  the  New  World  to  Henry 
VII.  while  the  discovery  was  still  in  the  air.  He 
had  sent  his  brother  to  England  with  maps  and 
globes,  and  quotations  from  Plato  to  prove  its  exist- 
ence. Henry,  like  a  practical  Englishman,  treated 
it  as  a  wild  dream. 

The  dream  had  come  from  the  gate  of  horn. 
America  was  found,  and  the  Spaniard,  and  not  the 
English,  came  into  first  possession  of  it.  Still, 
America  was  a  large  place,  and  John  Cabot  the 
Venetian  with  his  son  Sebastian  tried  Henry  again. 


8        English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

England  might  still  be  able  to  secure  a  slice.  Tiiis 
time  Henry  VII.  listened.  Two  small  ships  were 
fitted  out  at  Bristol,  crossed  the  Atlantic,  discovered 
Newfoundland,  coasted  down  to  Florida  looking  for 
a  passage  to  Cathay,  but  could  not  find  one.  The 
elder  Cabot  died;  the  younger  came  home.  The 
expedition  failed,  and  no  interest  had  been  roused. 

With  the  accession  of  Henry  VIII.  a  new  era  had 
opened — a  new  era  in  many  senses.  Printing  was 
coming  into  use — Erasmus  and  his  companions  were 
shaking  Europe  with  the  new  learning,  Copemican 
astronomy  was  changing  the  level  disk  of  the  earth 
into  a  revolving  globe,  and  turning  dizzy  the 
thoughts  of  mankind.  Imagination  was  on  the 
stretch.  The  reality  of  things  was  assuming  propor- 
tions vaster  than  fancy  had  dreamt,  and  unfastening 
established  belief  on  a  thousand  sides.  The  young 
Henry  was  welcomed  by  Erasmus  as  likely  to  be  the 
glory  of  the  age  that  was  opening.  He  was  young, 
brilliant,  cultivated,  and  ambitious.  To  what  might 
he  not  aspire  under  the  new  conditions!  Henry 
VIII.  was  all  that,  but  he  was  cautious  and  looked 
about  him.  Europe  was  full  of  wars  in  which  he 
was  likely  to  be  entangled.  His  father  had  left  the 
treasury  well  furnished.  The  young  King,  like  a 
wise  man,  turned  his  first  attention  to  the  broad 
ditch,  as  he  called  the  British  Channel,  which  formed 
the  natural  defence  of  the  realm.  The  opening  of 
the  Atlantic  had  revolutionised  war  and  seamanship. 
Long  voyages  required  larger  vessels.  Henry  was 
the  first  prince  to  see  the  place  which  gunpowder 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  9 

was  going  to  hold  in  wars.  In  his  first  years  he  re- 
paired his  dockyards,  built  new  ships  on  improyed 
models,  and  imported  Italians  to  cast  him  new  types 
of  cannon.  *  King  Harry  loved  a  man,'  it  was  said, 
and  knew  a  man  when  he  saw  one.  He  made  ac- 
quaintance with  sea  captains  at  Portsmouth  and 
Southampton.  In  some  way  or  other  he  came  to 
know  one  Mr.  WiUiam  Hawkins,  of  Plymouth,  and 
held  him  in  especial  esteem.  This  Mr.  Hawkins, 
under  Henry's  patronage,  ventured  down  to  the 
coast  of  Guinea  and  brought  home  gold  and  ivory ; 
crossed  over  to  Brazil ;  made  friends  with  the  Bra- 
zilian natives;  even  brought  back  with  him  the 
king  of  those  countries,  who  was  curious  to  see  what 
England  was  like,  and  presented  him  to  Henry  at 
Whitehall. 

Another  Plymouth  man,  Kobert  Thome,  again 
with  Henry's  help,  went  out  to  look  for  the  North- 
west passage  which  Cabot  had  failed  to  find. 
Thome's  ship  was  called  the  Dominus  Vobiscum,  a 
pious  aspiration  which,  however,  secured  no  suc- 
cess. A  London  man,  a  Master  Hore,  tried  next. 
Master  Hore,  it  is  said,  was  given  to  cosmography, 
was  a  plausible  talker  at  scientific  meetings,  and  so  on. 
He  persuaded  *  divers  young  lawyers '  (briefless  bar- 
risters, I  suppose)  and  other  gentlemen — altogether 
a  hundred  and  twenty  of  them — to  join  him.  They 
procured  two  vessels  at  Gravesend.  They  took  the 
sacrament  together  before  sailing.  They  apparently 
relied  on  Providence  to  take  care  of  them,  for  they 
made  little  other  preparation.    They  reached  New- 


10       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

foundland,  but  their  stores  ran  out,  and  their  ships 
went  on  shore.  In  the  land  of  fish  they  did  not 
know  how  to  use  line  and  bait.  They  fed  on  roots 
and  bilberries,  and  picked  fish  bones  out  of  the 
ospreys'  nests.  At  last  they  began  to  eat  one  an- 
other— careless  of  Master  Hore,  who  told  them  they 
would  go  to  unquenchable  fire.  A  French  vessel 
came  in.  They  seized  her  with  the  food  she  had 
on  board  and  sailed  home  in  her,  leaving  the  French 
crew  to  their  fate.  The  poor  French  happily  found 
means  of  following  them.  They  complained  of  their 
treatment,  and  Henry  ordered  an  inquiry ;  but  find- 
ing, the  report  says,  the  great  distress  Master  Hore's 
party  had  been  in,  was  so  moved  with  pity,  that  he 
did  not  punish  them,  but  out  of  his  own  purse 
made  royal  recompense  to  the  French. 

Something  better  than  gentlemen  volunteers  was 
needed  if  naval  enterprise  was  to  come  to  anything 
in  England.  The  long  wars  between  Francis  I.  and 
Charles  Y.  brought  the  problem  closer.  On  land 
the  fighting  was  between  the  regular  armies.  At  sea 
privateers  were  let  loose  out  of  French,  Flemish, 
and  Spanish  ports.  Enterprising  individuals  took 
out  letters  of  marque  and  went  cruising  to  take  the 
chance  of  what  they  could  catch.  The  Channel  was 
the  chief  hunting-ground,  as  being  the  highway  be- 
tween Spain  and  the  Low  Countries.  The  interval 
was  short  between  privateers  and  pirates.  Vessels 
of  all  sorts  passed  into  the  business.  The  Scilly 
Isles  became  a  pirate  stronghold.  The  creeks  and 
estuaries    in  Cork  and    Kerry    furnished  hiding- 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Be/ormaiion  11 

places  where  the  rovers  could  lie  with  security  and 
share  their  plunder  with  the  Irish  chiefs.  The  dis- 
order grew  wilder  when  the  divorce  of  Catherine  of 
Aragon  made  Henry  into  the  public  enemy  of  Papal 
Europe.  English  traders  and  fishing  smacks  were 
plundered  and  sunk.  Their  crews  went  armed  to 
defend  themselves,  and  from  Thames  mouth  to 
Land's  End  the  Channel  became  the  scene  of  des- 
perate fights.  The  type  of  vessel  altered  to  suit 
the  new  conditions.  Life  depended  on  speed  of 
sailing.  The  State  Papers  describe  squadrons  of 
French  or  Spaniards  flying  about,  dashing  into 
Dartmouth,  Plymouth,  or  Falmouth,  cutting  out 
English  coasters,  or  fighting  one  another. 

After  Henry  was  excommunicated,  and  L:eland 
rebelled,  and  England  itself  threatened  disturbance, 
the  King  had  to  look  to  his  security.  He  made  lit- 
tle noise  about  it.  But  the  Spanish  ambassador  re- 
ported him  as  silently  building  ships  in  the  Thames 
and  at  Portsmouth.  As  invasion  seemed  imminent, 
he  began  with  sweeping  the  seas  of  the  looser  vermin. 
A  few  swift  well-armed  cruisers  pushed  suddenly 
out  of  the  Solent,  caught  and  destroyed  a  pirate 
fleet  in  Mount's  Bay,  sent  to  the  bottom  some 
Flemish  privateers  in  the  Downs,  and  captured  the 
Flemish  admiral  himself.  Danger  at  home  growing 
more  menacing,  and  the  monks  spreading  the  fire 
which  grew  into  the  Pilgrimage  of  Grace,  Henry 
suppressed  the  abbeys,  sold  the  lands,  and  with  the 
proceeds  armed  the  coast  with  fortresses.  'You 
threaten  me,'  he  seemed  to  say  to  them,  '  that  you 


12      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

will  use  the  wealtli  our  fathers  gave  you  to  over- 
throw my  Government  and  bring  in  the  invader.  I 
wlU  take  your  wealth,  and  I  wiU  use  it  to  disap- 
point your  treachery.'  You  may  see  the  remnants 
of  Henry's  work  in  the  fortresses  anywhere  along 
the  coast  from  Berwick  to  the  Land's  End. 

Louder  thundered  the  Vatican.  In  1539  Henry's 
time  appeared  to  have  come.  France  and  Spain 
made  peace,  and  the  Pope's  sentence  was  now  ex- 
pected to  be  executed  by  Charles  or  Francis,  or 
both.  A  crowd  of  vessels  large  and  small  was  col- 
lected in  the  Scheldt,  for  what  purpose  save  to 
transport  an  army  into  England?  Scotland  had 
joined  the  Catholic  League.  Henry  fearlessly  ap- 
piBaled  to  the  English  people.  Catholic  peers  and 
priests  might  conspire  against  him,  but,  explain  it 
how  we  will,  the  nation  was  loyal  to  Henry  and 
came  to  his  side.  The  London  merchants  armed 
their  ships  in  the  river.  From  the  seaports  every- 
where came  armed  brigantines  and  sloops.  The 
fishermen  of  the  West  left  their  boats  and  nets  to 
their  wives,  and  the  fishing  was  none  the  worse,  for 
the  women  handled  oar  and  sail  and  line  and  went 
to  the  whiting  grounds,  while  their  husbands  had 
gone  to  fight  for  their  King.  Genius  kindled  into 
discovery  at  the  call  of  the  country.  Mr.  Fletcher 
of  Eye  (be  his  name  remembered)  invented  a  boat 
the  like  of  which  was  never  seen  before,  which 
would  work  to  windward,  with  sails  trimmed  fore 
and  aft,  the  greatest  revolution  yet  made  in  ship- 
building.     A  hundred  and  fifty  sail  collected   at 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  13 

Sandwich  to  match  the  armament  in  the  Scheldt , 
and  Marillac,  the  French  ambassador,  reported  with 
amazement  the  energy  of  King  and  people. 

The  Catholic  Powers  thought  better  of  it.  This 
was  not  the  England  which  Reginald  Pole  had 
told  them  was  longing  for  their  appearance.  The 
Scheldt  force  dispersed.  Henry  read  Scotland 
a  needed  lesson.  The  Scots  had  thought  to  take 
him  at  disadvantage,  and  sit  on  his  back  when 
the  Emperor  attacked  him.  One  morning  when 
the  people  at  Leith  woke  out  of  their  sleep,  they 
found  an  English  fleet  in  the  Roads;  and  before 
they  had  time  to  look  about  them,  Leith  was  on 
fire  and  Edinburgh  was  taken.  Charles  V.,  if  he 
had  ever  seriously  thought  of  invading  Henry,  re- 
turned to  wiser  counsels,  and  made  an  alliance 
with  him  instead.  The  Pope  turned  to  France. 
If  the  Emperor  forsook  him,  the  Most  Chris- 
tian King  would  help.  He  promised  Francis 
that  if  he  could  win  England  he  might  keep  it 
for  himself.  Francis  resolved  to  try  what  he 
could  do. 

Five  years  had  passed  since  the  gathering  at 
Sandwich.  It  was  now  the  summer  of  1544.  The 
records  say  that  the  French  collected  at  Havre 
near  300  vessels,  fighting  ships,  galleys,  and  trans- 
ports. Doubtless  the  numbers  are  far  exaggerated, 
but  at  any  rate  it  was  the  largest  force  ever  yet  got 
together  to  invade  England,  capable,  if  well  handled, 
of  bringing  Henry  to  his  knees.  The  plan  was  to 
seize  and  occupy  the  Isle  of  Wight,  destroy   the 


14      Bnglish  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

English  fleet,  then  take  Portsmouth  and  Southamp- 
ton, and  so  advance  on  London. 

Henry's  attention  to  his  navy  had  not  slackened. 
He  had  built  ship  on  ship.  The  Great  Harry  was  a 
thousand  tons,  carried  700  men,  and  was  the  won- 
der of  the  day.  There  were  a  dozen  others  scarcely 
less  imposing.  The  King  called  again  on  the  na- 
tion, and  again  the  nation  answered.  In  England 
altogether  there  were  150,000  men  in  arms  in  field 
or  garrison.  In  the  King's  fleet  at  Portsmouth 
there  were  12,000  seamen,  and  the  privateers  of  the 
West  crowded  up  eagerly  as  before.  It  is  strange, 
with  the  notions  which  we  have  allowed  ourselves 
to  form  of  Henry,  to  observe  the  enthusiasm  with 
which  the  whole  country,  as  yet  undivided  by 
doctrinal  quarrels,  rallied  a  second  time  to  defend 
him. 

In  this  Portsmouth  fleet  lay  undeveloped  the 
genius  of  the  future  naval  greatness  of  England. 
A  small  fact  connected  with  it  is  worth  recording. 
The  watchword  on  board  was  *  God  save  the  King ' ; 
the  answer  was,  *  Long  to  reign  over  us ' :  the 
earliest  germ  discoverable  of  the  English  National 
Anthem. 

The  King  had  come  himself  to  Portsmouth  to 
witness  the  expected  attack.  The  fleet  was  com- 
manded by  Lord  Lisle,  afterwards  Duke  of  North- 
umberland. It  was  the  middle  of  July.  The 
French  crossed  from  Havre  unfought  with,  and 
anchored  in  St.  Helens  Eoads  off  Brading  Harbour. 
The  English,  being  greatly  inferior  in  numbers,  lay 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  15 

waiting  for  them  inside  the  Spit.  The  morning 
after  the  French  came  in  was  still  and  sultry.  The 
English  could  not  move  for  want  of  wind.  The 
galleys  crossed  over  and  engaged  them  for  two  or 
three  hours  with  some  advantage.  The  breeze  rose 
at  noon ;  a  few  fast  sloops  got  under  way  and 
easily  drove  them  back.  But  the  same  breeze 
which  enabled  the  English  to  move  brought  a 
serious  calamity  with  it.  The  Mary  Rose,  one  of 
Lisle's  finest  vessels,  had  been  under  the  fire  of  the 
galleys.  Her  ports  had  been  left  open,  and  when 
the  wind  sprang  up,  she  heeled  over,  filled,  and 
went  down,  carrying  two  hundred  men  along  with 
her.  The  French  saw  her  sink,  and  thought  their 
own  guns  had  done  it.  They  hoped  to  follow  up 
their  success.  At  night  they  sent  over  boats  to 
take  soundings,  and  discover  the  way  into  the 
harbour.  The  boats  reported  that  the  sandbanks 
made  the  approach  impossible.  The  French  had 
no  clear  plan  of  action.  They  tried  a  landing  in 
the  island,  but  the  force  was  too  small,  and  failed. 
They  weighed  anchor  and  brought  up  again  behind 
Selsea  Bill,  where  Lisle  proposed  to  run  them 
down  in  the  dark,  taking  advantage  of  the  tide. 
But  they  had  an  enemy  to  deal  with  worse  than 
Lisle,  on  board  their  own  ships,  which  explained 
their  distracted  movements.  Hot  weather,  putrid 
meat,  and  putrid  water  had  prostrated  whole  ships' 
companies  with  dysentery.  After  a  three  weeks' 
ineffectual  cruise  they  had  to  hasten  back  to  Havre, 
break  up,  and  disperse.     The  first  great  armament 


16      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

which  was  to  have  recovered  England  to  the 
Papacy  had  effected  nothing.  Henry  had  once 
more  shown  his  strength,  and  was  left  undisputed 
master  of  the  narrow  seas. 

So  matters  stood  for  what  remained  of  Henry's 
reign.  As  far  as  he  had  gone,  he  had  quarrelled 
with  the  Pope,  and  had  brought  the  Church  under 
the  law.  So  far  the  country  generally  had  gone 
with  him,  and  there  had  been  no  violent  changes 
in  the  administration  of  religion.  When  Henry 
died  the  Protector  abolished  the  old  creed,  and 
created  a  new  and  perilous  cleavage  between 
Protestant  and  Catholic,  and,  while  England  needed 
the  protection  of  a  navy  more  than  ever,  allowed 
the  fine  fleet  which  Henry  had  left  to  fall  into  decay. 
The  spirit  of  enterprise  grew  with  the  Reformation. 
Merchant  companies  opened  trade  with  Russia  and 
the  Levant;  adventurous  sea  captains  went  to 
Guinea  for  gold.  Sir  Hugh  Willoughby  followed 
the  phantom  of  the  North-west  Passage,  turning 
eastward  round  the  North  Cape  to  look  for  it,  and 
perished  in  the  ice.  English  commerce  was  begin- 
ning to  grow  in  spite  of  the  Protector's  experiments  ; 
but  a  new  and  infinitely  dangerous  element  had 
been  introduced  by  the  change  of  religion  into  the 
relations  of  English  sailors  with  the  Catholic  Powers, 
and  especially  with  Spain.  In  their  zeal  to  keep 
out  heresy,  the  Spanish  Government  placed  their 
harbours  under  the  control  of  the  Holy  Office. 
Any  vessel  in  which  an  heretical  book  was  found 
was  confiscated,  and  her  crew  carried  to  the  Inqui- 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  17 

sition  prisons.  It  had  begun  in  Henry's  time. 
The  Inquisitors  attempted  to  treat  schism  as  heresy 
and  arrest  Englishmen  in  their  ports.  But  Henry 
spoke  up  stoutly  to  Charles  V.,  and  the  Holy  Office 
had  been  made  to  hold  its  hand.  All  was  altered 
now.  It  was  not  necessary  that  a  poor  sailor  should 
have  been  found  teaching  heresy.  It  was  enough 
if  he  had  an  English  Bible  and  Prayer  Book  with 
him  in  his  kit ;  and  stories  would  come  into  Dart- 
mouth or  Plymouth  how  some  lad  that  everybody 
knew — BiU  or  Jack  or  Tom,  who  had  wife  or  father 
or  mother  among  them,  perhaps — had  been  seized 
hold  of  for  no  other  crime,  been  flung  into  a  dun- 
geon, tortured,  starved,  set  to  work  in  the  galleys, 
or  burned  in  a  fool's  coat,  as  they  called  it,  at  an 
auto  dafe  at  Seville. 

The  object  of  the  Inquisition  was  partly  politi- 
cal: it  was  meant  to  embarrass  trade  and  make 
the  people  impatient  of  changes  which  produced 
so  much  inconvenience.  The  effect  was  exactly  the 
opposite.  Such  accounts  when  brought  home 
created  fury.  There  grew  up  in  the  seagoing 
population  an  enthusiasm  of  hatred  for  that  holy 
institution,  and  a  passionate  desire  for  revenge. 

The  natural  remedy  would  have  been  war;  but 
the  division  of  nations  was  crossed  by  the  division 
of  creeds  ;  and  each  nation  had  allies  in  the  heart  of 
every  other.  If  England  went  to  war  with  Spain, 
Spain  could  encourage  insurrection  among  the 
Catholics.  If  Spain  or  France  declared  war  against 
England,  England  could  help  the  Huguenots  or  the 


18       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Holland  Calvinists.  All  Governments  were  afraid 
alike  of  a  general  war  of  religion  which  might  shake 
Europe  in  pieces.  Thus  individuals  were  left  to 
their  natural  impulses.  The  Holy  Office  burnt 
English  or  French  Protestants  wherever  it  could 
catch  them.  The  Protestants  revenged  their  in- 
juries at  their  own  risk  and  in  their  own  way,  and 
thus  from  Edward  VI.'s  time  to  the  end  of  the 
century  privateering  came  to  be  the  special  occupa- 
tion of  adventurous  honourable  gentlemen,  who  could 
serve  God,  their  country,  and  themselves  in  fighting 
Catholics.  Fleets  of  these  dangerous  vessels  swept 
the  Channel,  lying  in  wait  at  Scilly,  or  even  at  the 
Azores — disowned  in  public  by  their  own  Govern- 
ments while  secretly  countenanced,  making  war  on 
their  own  account  on  what  they  called  the  enemies 
of  God.  In  such  a  business,  of  course,  there  were 
many  mere  pirates  engaged  who  cared  neither  for 
God  nor  man.  But  it  was  the  Protestants  who 
were  specially  impelled  into  it  by  the  cruelties  of 
the  Inquisition.  The  Holy  Office  began  the  work 
with  the  autos  dafe.  The  privateers  robbed,  burnt, 
and  scuttled  Catholic  ships  in  retaliation.  One 
fierce  deed  produced  another,  till  right  and  wrong 
were  obscured  in  the  passion  of  religious  hatred. 
Vivid  pictures  of  these  wild  doings  survive  in  the 
English  and  Spanish  State  Papers.  Ireland  was 
the  rovers'  favourite  haunt.  In  the  universal 
anarchy  there,  a  little  more  or  a  little  less  did  not 
signify.  Notorious  pirate  captains  were  to  be  met 
in    Cork    or    Kinsale,    collecting    stores,    casting 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  19 

cannon,  or  selling  their  prizes — men  of  all  sorts, 
from  fanatical  saints  to  undisguised  ruffians.  Here 
is  one  incident  out  of  many  to  show  the  heights  to 
which  temper  had  risen. 

'  Long  peace,'  says  someone,  addressing  the 
Privy  Council  early  in  Elizabeth's  time,  'becomes 
by  force  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition  more  hurtful 
than  open  war.  It  is  the  secret,  determined  policy 
of  Spain  to  destroy  the  English  fleet,  pilots,  masters 
and  sailors,  by  means  of  the  Inquisition.  The 
Spanish  King  pretends  he  dares  not  offend  the  Holy 
House,  while  we  in  England  say  we  may  not  pro- 
claim war  against  Spain  in  revenge  of  a  few.  Not 
long  since  the  Spanish  Inquisition  executed  sixty 
persons  of  St.  Malo,  notwithstanding  entreaty  to 
the  King  of  Spain  to  spare  them.  Whereupon  the 
Frenchmen  armed  their  pinnaces,  lay  for  the 
Spaniards,  took  a  hundred  and  beheaded  them, 
sending  the  Spanish  ships  to  the  shore  with  their 
heads,  leaving  in  each  ship  but  one  man  to  render 
the  cause  of  the  revenge.  Since  which  time  Spanish 
Inquisitors  have  never  meddled  with  those  of  St. 
Malo.' 

A  colony  of  Huguenot  refugees  had  settled  on 
the  coast  of  Florida.  The  Spaniards  heard  of  it, 
came  from  St.  Domingo,  burnt  the  town,  and  hanged 
every  man,  woman,  and  child,  leaving  an  inscription 
explaining  that  the  poor  creatures  had  been  killed, 
not  as  Frenchmen,  but  as  heretics.  Domenique  de 
Gourges,  of  Eochelle,  heard  of  this  fine  exploit  of 
fanaticism,  equipped  a  ship,  and  sailed  across.     He 


20      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

caught  the  Spanish  garrison  which  had  been  left 
in  occupation  and  swung  them  on  the  same  trees — 
with  a  second  scroll  saying  that  they  were  dangling 
there,  not  as  Spaniards,  but  as  murderers. 

The  genius  of  adventure  tempted  men  of  highest 
birth  into  the  rovers'  ranks.  Sir  Thomas  Seymour, 
the  Protector's  brother  and  the  King's  uncle,  was 
Lord  High  Admiral.  In  his  time  of  office,  com- 
plaints were  made  by  foreign  merchants  of  ships 
and  property  seized  at  the  Thames  mouth.  No 
redress  could  be  had ;  no  restitution  made ;  no 
pirate  was  even  punished,  and  Seymour's  personal 
followers  were  seen  suspiciously  decorated  with 
Spanish  ornaments.  It  appeared  at  last  that  Sey- 
mour had  himself  bought  the  SciUy  Isles,  and  if  he 
could  not  have  his  way  at  Court,  it  was  said  that 
he  meant  to  set  up  there  as  a  pirate  chief. 

The  persecution  under  Mary  brought  in  more 
respectable  recruits  than  Seymour.  The  younger 
generation  of  the  western  families  had  grown  with 
the  times.  If  they  were  not  theologically  Protes- 
tant, they  detested  t3rranny.  They  detested  the 
marriage  with  Philip,  which  threatened  the  indepen- 
dence of  England.  At  home  they  were  powerless, 
but  the  sons  of  honourable  houses — Strangways, 
Tremaynes,  Staffords,  Horseys,  Carews,  Killegrews, 
and  Cobhams — dashed  out  upon  the  water  to  re- 
venge the  Smithfield  massacres.  They  found  help 
where  it  could  least  have  been  looked  for,  Henry 
II.  of  France  hated  heresy,  but  he  hated  Spain 
worse.     Sooner  than  see  England  absorbed  in  the 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Beformation  21 

Spanish  monarchy,  he  forgot  his  bigotry  in  his  poli- 
tics. He  furnished  these  young  mutineers  with  ships 
and  money  and  letters  of  marque.  The  Huguenots 
were  their  natural  friends.  With  Bochelle  for  an 
arsenal,  they  held  the  mouth  of  the  Channel,  and 
harassed  the  communications  between  Cadiz  and 
Antwerp.  It  was  a  wild  business :  enterprise  and 
buccaneering  sanctified  by  religion  and  hatred  of 
cruelty  ;  but  it  was  a  school  like  no  other  for  sea- 
manship, and  a  school  for  the  building  of  vessels 
which  could  outsail  all  others  on  the  sea ;  a  school, 
too,  for  the  training  up  of  hardy  men,  in  whose 
blood  ran  detestation  of  the  Inquisition  and  the  In- 
quisition's master.  Every  other  trade  was  swallowed 
up  or  coloured  by  privateering ;  the  merchantmen 
went  armed,  ready  for  any  work  that  offered ;  the 
Iceland  fleet  went  no  more  in  search  of  cod ;  the 
Channel  boatmen  forsook  nets  and  lines  and  took 
to  livelier  occupations ;  Mary  was  too  busy  burning 
heretics  to  look  to  the  police  of  the  seas ;  her 
father's  fine  ships  rotted  in  harbom* ;  her  father's 
coast-forts  were  deserted  or  dismantled;  she  lost 
Calais ;  she  lost  the  hearts  of  her  people  in  forcing 
them  into  orthodoxy ;  she  left  the  seas  to  the  priva- 
teers ;  and  no  trade  flourished,  save  what  the  Catho- 
lic powers  called  piracy. 

When  Elizabeth  came  to  the  throne,  the  whole 
merchant  navy  of  England  engaged  in  lawful  com- 
merce amounted  to  no  more  than  50,000  tons.  You 
may  see  more  now  passing  every  day  through  the 
Gull  Stream.     In   the  service  of  the  Crown  there 


22       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

were  but  seven  revenue  cruisers  in  commission,  the 
largest  120  tons,  with  eight  merchant  brigs  altered 
for  fighting.  In  harbour  there  were  still  a  score  of 
large  ships,  but  they  were  dismantled  and  rotting ; 
of  artillery  fit  for  sea  work  there  was  none.  The 
men  were  not  to  be  had,  and,  as  Sir  William  Cecil 
said,  to  fit  out  ships  without  men  was  to  set  armour 
on  stakes  on  the  sea-shore.  The  mariners  of  Eng- 
land were  otherwise  engaged,  and  in  a  way  which 
did  not  please  Cecil.  He  was  the  ablest  minister 
that  EHzabeth  had.  He  saw  at  once  that  on  the 
navy  the  prosperity  and  even  the  liberty  of  England 
must  eventually  depend.  If  England  were  to  re- 
main Protestant,  it  was  not  by  articles  of  religion  or 
acts  of  uniformity  that  she  could  be  saved  without  a 
fleet  at  the  back  of  them.  But  he  was  old-fashioned. 
He  believed  in  law  and  order,  and  he  has  left  a 
curious  paper  of  reflections  on  the  situation.  The 
ships'  companies  in  Henry  VIII.'s  days  were  re- 
cruited from  the  fishing  smacks,  but  the  Reforma- 
tion itself  had  destroyed  the  fishing  trade.  In  old 
times,  Cecil  said,  no  flesh  was  eaten  on  fish  days. 
The  King  himself  could  not  have  license.  Now  to 
eat  beef  or  mutton  on  fish  days  was  the  test  of  a 
true  believer.  The  English  Iceland  fishery  used  to 
supply  Normandy  and  Brittany  as  weU  as  England. 
Now  it  had  passed  to  the  French.  The  Chester  men 
used  to  fish  the  Irish  seas.  Now  they  had  left  them 
to  the  Scots.  The  fishermen  had  taken  to  privateer- 
ing because  the  fasts  of  the  Church  were  neglected. 
He  saw  it  was  so.     He  recorded  his  own  opinion 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Reformation  23 

that  piracy,  as  he  called  it,  was  detestable,  and  could 
not  last.  He  was  to  find  that  it  could  last,  that  it 
was  to  form  the  special  discipline  of  the  generation 
whose  business  would  be  to  fight  the  Spaniards. 
But  he  struggled  hard  against  the  unwelcome  con- 
clusion. He  tried  to  revive  lawful  trade  by  a  Navi- 
gation Act.  He  tried  to  restore  the  fisheries  by  Act 
of  Parliament.  He  introduced  a  Bill  recommending 
godly  abstinence  as  a  means  to  virtue,  making  the 
eating  of  meat  on  Fridays  and  Saturdays  a  misde- 
meanour, and  adding  Wednesday  as  a  half  fish-day. 
The  House  of  Commons  laughed  at  him  as  bringing 
back  Popish  mummeries.  To  please  the  Protestants 
he  inserted  a  clause,  that  the  statute  was  politicly 
meant  for  the  increase  of  fishermen  and  mariners, 
not  for  any  superstition  in  the  choice  of  meats ;  but 
it  was  no  use.  The  Act  was  called  in  mockery 
*  Cecil's  Fast,'  and  the  recovery  of  the  fisheries  had 
to  wait  till  the  natural  inclination  of  human  stom- 
achs for  fresh  whiting  and  salt  cod  should  revive 
of  itself. 

Events  had  to  take  their  course.  Seamen  were 
duly  provided  in  other  ways,  and  such  as  the  time 
required.  Privateering  suited  Elizabeth's  conven- 
ience, and  suited  her  disposition.  She  liked  daring 
and  adventure.  She  liked  men  who  would  do  her 
work  without  being  paid  for  it,  men  whom  she  could 
disown  when  expedient ;  who  would  understand  her, 
and  would  not  resent  it.  She  knew  her  turn  was  to 
come  when  Philip  had  leisure  to  deal  with  her,  if 
she  could  not  secure  herself  meanwhile.     Time  was 


24      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteerdh  Century 

wanted  to  restore  the  navy.  The  privateers  were  a 
resource  in  the  interval.  They  might  be  called  pi- 
rates while  there  was  formal  peace.  The  name  did 
not  signify.  They  were  really  the  armed  force  of  the 
country.  After  the  war  broke  out  in  the  Nether- 
lands, they  had  commissions  from  the  Prince  of 
Orange.  Such  commissions  would  not  save  them  if 
taken  by  Spain,  but  it  enabled  them  to  sell  their 
prizes,  and  for  the  rest  they  trusted  to  their  speed 
and  their  guns.  When  Elizabeth  was  at  war  with 
France  about  Havre,  she  took  the  most  noted  of 
them  into  the  service  of  the  Crown.  Ned  Horsey 
became  Sir  Edward  and  Governor  of  the  Isle  of 
Wight ;  Strangways,  a  Red  Rover  in  his  way,  who 
had  been  the  terror  of  the  Spaniards,  was  killed  be- 
fore Rouen  ;  Tremayne  fell  at  Havre,  mourned  over 
by  Elizabeth ;  and  Champemowne,  one  of  the  most 
gallant  of  the  whole  of  them,  was  killed  afterwards  at 
Coligny's  side  at  Moncontour. 

But  others  took  their  places :  the  wild  hawks  as 
thick  as  seagulls  flashing  over  the  waves,  fair  wind 
or  foul,  laughing  at  pursuit,  brave,  reckless,  devoted, 
the  crews  the  strangest  medley:  English  from  the 
Devonshire  and  Cornish  creeks,  Huguenots  from 
Rochelle ;  Irish  kernes  with  long  skenes,  *  desperate, 
unruly  persons  with  no  kind  of  mercy.' 

The  Holy  Office  meanwhile  went  on  in  cold, 
savage  resolution :  the  Holy  Office  which  had  begun 
the  business  and  was  the  cause  of  it. 

A  note  in  Cecil's  hand  says  that  in  the  one  year 
1562  twenty-six  English  subjects  had  been  burnt  at 


The  Sea  Cradle  of  the  Beformation  25 

the  stake  in  different  parts  of  Spain.  Ten  times  as 
many  were  starving  in  Spanish  dungeons,  from 
which  occasionally,  by  happy  accident,  a  cry  could 
be  heard  like  this  which  follows.  In  1561  an 
English  merchant  writes  from  the  Canaries  : 

'  I  was  taken  by  those  of  the  Inquisition  twenty 
months  past,  put  into  a  little  dark  house  two  paces 
long,  loaded  with  irons,  without  sight  of  sun  or 
moon  all  that  time.  When  I  was  arraigned  I  was 
charged  that  I  should  say  our  mass  was  as  good  as 
theirs ;  that  I  said  I  would  rather  give  money  to 
the  poor  than  buy  Bulls  of  Rome  with  it.  I  was 
charged  with  being  a  subject  to  the  Queen's  grace, 
who,  they  said,  was  enemy  to  the  faith,  Antichrist, 
with  other  opprobrious  names ;  and  I  stood  to  the 
defence  of  the  Queen's  Majesty,  proving  the  in- 
famies most  untrue.  Then  I  was  put  into  Little 
Ease  again,  protesting  very  innocent  blood  to  be 
demanded  against  the  judge  before  Christ.' 

The  innocent  blood  of  these  poor  victims  had 
not  to  wait  to  be  avenged  at  the  Judgment  Day. 
The  account  was  presented  shortly  and  promptly  at 
the  cannon's  mouth. 


LECTUEE  n 

JOHN  HAWKINS  AND  THE  AFBICAN  SLAVE  TRADE 

I  BEGESf  this  lecture  with  a  petition  addressed  to 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Thomas  Seely,  a  merchant  of 
Bristol,  hearing  a  Spaniard  in  a  Spanish  port  utter 
foul  and  slanderous  charges  against  the  Queen's 
character,  knocked  him  down.  To  knock  a  man 
down  for  telling  lies  about  Elizabeth  might  be  a 
breach  of  the  peace,  but  it  had  not  yet  been  de- 
clared heresy.  The  Holy  Office,  however,  seized 
Seely,  threw  him  into  a  dimgeon,  and  kept  him 
starving  there  for  three  years,  at  the  end  of  which 
he  contrived  to  make  his  condition  known  in 
England.  The  Queen  wrote  herself  to  Philip  to 
protest.  Philip  would  not  interfere.  Seely  re- 
mained in  prison  and  in  irons,  and  the  result  was  a 
petition  from  his  wife,  in  which  the  temper  which 
was  rising  can  be  read  as  in  letters  of  fire, 
Dorothy  Seely  demands  that  'the  friends  of  her 
Majesty's  subjects  so  imprisoned  and  tormented  in 
Spain  may  make  out  ships  at  their  proper  charges, 
take  such  Inquisitoi-s  or  other  Papistical  subjects 
of  the  King  of  Spain  as  they  can  by  sea  or  land, 
and  retain  them  in  prison  with  such  torments  and 
diet    as  her   Majesty's    subjects  be   kept  with  in 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    27 

Spain,  and  on  complaint  made  by  the  King  to  give 
such  answer  as  is  now  made  when  her  Majesty 
sues  for  subjects  imprisoned  by  the  Inquisition. 
Or  that  a  Commission  be  granted  to  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  and  the  other  bishops  word  for  word 
for  foreign  Papists  as  the  Inquisitors  have  in  Spain 
for  the  Protestants.  So  that  all  may  know  that  her 
Majesty  canno^  and  will  not  longer  endure  the 
spoils  and  torments  of  her  subjects,  and  the  Span- 
iards shall  not  think  this  noble  realm  dares  not 
seek  revenge  of  such  importable  wrongs.' 

Elizabeth  issued  no  such  Commission  as  Dorothy 
Seely  asked  for,  but  she  did  leave  her  subjects  to 
seek  their  revenge  in  their  own  way,  and  they 
sought  it  sometimes  too  rashly. 

In  the  summer  of  1563  eight  English  merchant- 
men anchored  in  the  roads  of  Gibraltar.  England 
and  France  were  then  at  war.  A  French  brig  came 
in  after  them,  and  brought  up  near.  At  sea,  if 
they  could  take  her,  she  would  have  been  a  lawful 
prize.  Spaniards  under  similar  circumstances  had 
not  respected  the  neutrality  of  English  harbours. 
The  Englishmen  were  perhaps  in  doubt  what  to 
do,  when  the  officers  of  the  Holy  Office  came  off  to 
the  French  ship.  The  sight  of  the  black  familiars 
drove  the  English  wild.  Three  of  them  made  a 
dash  at  the  French  ship,  intending  to  sink  her. 
The  inquisitors  sprang  into  their  boat,  and  rowed 
for  their  lives.  The  castle  guns  opened,  and  the 
harbour  police  put  out  to  interfere.  The  French  ship, 
however,  would  have  been  taken,  when  unluckily 


28      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Alvarez  de  Ba§an,  with  a  Spanish  squadron,  came 
round  into  the  Straits.  Resistance  was  impossible. 
The  eight  English  ships  were  captured  and  carried 
oflf  to  Cadiz.  The  English  flag  was  trailed  under 
De  Bagan's  stern.  The  crews,  two  hundred  and 
forty  men  in  all,  were  promptly  condemned  to  the 
gaUeys.  In  defence  they  could  but  say  that  the 
Frenchman  was  an  enemy,  and  a  moderate  pun- 
ishment would  have  sufficed  for  a  violation  of 
the  harbour  rules  which  the  Spaniards  them- 
selves so  little  regarded.  But  the  Inquisition 
was  inexorable,  and  the  men  were  treated  with 
such  peculiar  brutality  that  after  nine  months 
ninety  only  of  the  two  hundred  and  forty  were 
alive. 

Ferocity  was  answered  by  ferocity.  Listen  to 
this !  The  Cobhams  of  Cowling  Castle  were  Prot- 
estants by  descent.  Lord  Cobham  was  famous  in 
the  Lollard  martyrology.  Thomas  Cobham,  one  of 
the  family,  had  taken  to  the  sea  like  many  of  his 
friends.  While  cruising  in  the  Channel  he  caught 
sight  of  a  Spaniard  on  the  way  from  Antwerp  to 
Cadiz  with  forty  prisoners  on  board,  consigned,  it 
might  be  supposed,  to  the  Inquisition.  They  were, 
of  course.  Inquisition  prisoners ;  for  other  offenders 
would  have  been  dealt  with  on  the  spot.  Cobham 
chased  her  down  into  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  took 
her,  scuttled  her,  and  rescued  the  captives.  But 
that  was  not  enough.  The  captain  and  crew  he 
sewed  up  in  their  own  mainsail  and  flung  them  over- 
board.    They  were  washed  ashore  dead,  wrapped 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade     29 

in  their  extraordinary  winding-sheet.  Cobham  was 
called  to  account  for  this  exploit,  but  he  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  actually  punished.  In  a  very 
short  time  he  was  out  and  away  again  at  the 
old  work.  There  were  plenty  with  him.  After 
the  business  at  Gibraltar,  Philip's  subjects  were 
not  safe  in  English  harbours.  Jacques  le  Clerc,  a 
noted  privateer,  called  Pie  de  Palo  from  his  wooden 
leg,  chased  a  Spaniard  into  Falmouth,  and  was 
allowed  to  take  her  under  the  guns  of  Pendennis. 
The  Governor  of  the  castle  said  that  he  could  not 
interfere,  because  Le  Clerc  had  a  commission  from 
the  Prince  of  Conde.  It  was  proved  that  in  the 
summer  of  1563  there  were  400  English  and 
Huguenot  rovers  in  and  about  the  Channel,  and 
that  they  had  taken  700  prizes  between  them. 
The  Queen's  own  ships  followed  suit.  Captain 
Cotton  in  the  Phoenix  captured  an  Antwerp  mer- 
chantman in  Flushing.  The  harbour-master  pro- 
tested. Cotton  laughed,  and  sailed  away  with  his 
prize.  The  Regent  Margaret  wrote  in  indignation 
to  Elizabeth.  Such  insolence,  she  said,  was  not 
to  be  endured.  She  would  have  Captain  Cotton 
chastised  as  an  example  to  all  others.  Elizabeth 
measured  the  situation  more  correctly  than  the 
Regent ;  she  preferred  to  show  Philip  that  she  was 
not  afraid  of  him.  She  preferred  to  let  her  subjects 
discover  for  themselves  that  the  terrible  Spaniard 
before  whom  the  world  trembled  was  but  a  colossus 
stuffed  with  clouts.  Until  Philip  consented  to  tie 
the  hands  of  the  Holy  Office  she  did  not  mean  to 


30       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

prevent  them  from  taking  the  law  into  their  own 
hands. 

Now  and  then,  if  occasion  required,  Elizabeth 
herself  would  do  a  little  privateering  on  her  own 
account.  In  the  next  story  that  I  have  to  tell  she 
appears  as  a  principal,  and  her  great  minister,  Cecil, 
as  an  accomplice.  The  Duke  of  Alva  had  suc- 
ceeded Margaret  as  Regent  of  the  Netherlands, 
and  was  drowning  heresy  in  its  own  blood.  The 
Prince  of  Orange  was  making  a  noble  fight ;  but  all 
went  ill  with  him.  His  troops  were  defeated,  his 
brother  Louis  was  killed.  He  was  still  struggling, 
helped  by  Elizabeth's  money.  But  the  odds  were 
terrible,  and  the  only  hope  lay  in  the  discontent  of 
Alva's  soldiers,  who  had  not  been  paid  theu'  wages, 
and  would  not  fight  without  them.  Philip's 
finances  were  not  flourishing,  but  he  had  borrowed 
half  a  million  ducats  from  a  house  at  Genoa  for 
Alva's  use.  The  money  was  to  be  delivered  in 
bullion  at  Antwerp.  The  Channel  privateers  heard 
that  it  was  coming  and  were  on  the  look-out  for  it. 
The  vessel  in  which  it  was  sent  took  refuge  in 
Plymouth,  but  found  she  had  run  into  the  enemy's 
nest.  Nineteen  or  twenty  Huguenot  and  English 
cruisers  lay  round  her  with  commissions  from 
Cond^  to  take  every  Catholic  ship  they  met  with. 
Elizabeth's  special  friends  thought  and  said  freely 
that  so  rich  a  prize  ought  to  fall  to  no  one  but  her 
Majesty.  Elizabeth  thought  the  same,  but  for  a 
more  honourable  reason.  It  was  of  the  highest 
consequence  that  the  money  should  not  reach  the 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    31 

Duke  of  Alva  at  that  moment.  Even  Cecil  said  so, 
and  sent  the  Prince  of  Orange  word  that  it  would 
be  stopped  in  some  way. 

But  how  could  it  decently  be  done?  Bishop 
Jewel  relieved  the  Queen's  mind  (if  it  was  ever 
disturbed)  on  the  moral  side  of  the  question.  The 
bishop  held  that  it  would  be  meritorious  in  a  high 
degree  to  intercept  a  treasure  which  was  to  be  used 
in  the  murder  of  Protestant  Christians.  But  the 
how  was  the  problem.  To  let  the  privateers  take 
it  openly  in  Plymouth  harbour  would,  it  was  felt, 
be  a  scandal.  Sir  Arthur  Champernowne,  the  Vice- 
admiral  of  the  West,  saw  the  difficulty  and  offered 
his  services.  He  had  three  vessels  of  his  own  in 
Condi's  privateer  fleet,  under  his  son  Henry.  As 
vice-admiral  he  was  first  in  command  at  Plymouth. 
He  placed  a  guard  on  board  the  treasure  ship,  telling 
the  captain  it  would  be  a  discredit  to  the  Queen's 
Government  if  harm  befell  her  in  English  waters. 
He  then  wrote'^to  Cecil. 

*  If,'  he  said,  *  it  shall  seem  good  to  your  honour 
that  I  with  others  shall  give  the  attempt  for  her 
Majesty's  use  which  cannot  be  without  blood,  I  will 
not  only  take  it  in  hand,  but  also  receive  the  blame 
thereof  unto  myself,  to  the  end  so  great  a  commodity 
should  redound  to  her  Grace,  hoping  that,  after 
bitter  storms  of  her  displeasure,  showed  at  the  first  to 
colour  the  fact,  I  shall  find  the  calm  of  her  favour 
in  such  sort  as  I  am  most  willing  to  hazard  myself 
to  serve  her  Majesty.  Great  pity  it  were  such  a  rich 
booty  should  escape  her  Grace.     But  surely  I  am 


32      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

of  that  mind  -that  anything  taken  from  that 
wicked  nation  is  both  necessary  and  profitable  to 
our  commonwealth.' 

Very  shocking  on  Sir  Arthur's  part  to  write  such 
a  letter :  so  many  good  people  will  think.  I  hope 
they  will  consider  it  equally  shocking  that  King 
Philip  should  have  burned  English  sailors  at  the 
stake  because  they  were  loyal  to  the  laws  of  their 
own  country;  that  he  was  stirring  war  all  over 
Europe  to  please  the  Pope,  and  thrusting  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Council  of  Trent  down  the  throats  of 
mankind  at  the  sword's  point.  Spain  and  England 
might  be  at  peace ;  Romanism  and  Protestantism 
were  at  deadly  war,  and  war  suspends  the  obliga- 
tions of  ordinary  life.  Crimes  the  most  horrible 
were  held  to  be  virtues  in  defence  of  the  Catholic 
faith.  The  Catholics  could  not  have  the  advantage 
of  such  indulgences  without  the  inconveniences. 
The  Protestant  cause  throughout  Europe  was  one, 
and  assailed  as  the  Protestants  were  with  such 
envenomed  ferocity,  they  could  not  afford  to  be 
nicely  scrupulous  in  the  means  they  used  to  defend 
themselves. 

Sir  Arthur  Champemowne  was  not  called  on  to 
sacrifice  himself  in  such  peculiar  fashion,  and  a 
better  expedient  was  found  to  secure  Alva's  money. 
The  bullion  was  landed  and  was  brought  to  London 
by  road  on  the  plea  that  the  seas  were  unsafe.  It 
was  carried  to  the  Tower,  and  when  it  was  once 
inside  the  wsdls  it  was  found  to  remain  the  property 
of  the  Genoese  until  it  was  delivered  at  Antwerp. 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    33 

The  Genoese  agent  in  London  was  as  willing  to 
lend  it  to  Elizabeth  as  to  PhUip,  and  indeed  pre- 
ferred the  security.  Elizabeth  calmly  said  that 
she  had  herself  occasion  for  money,  and  would  ac- 
cept their  offer.  Half  of  it  was  sent  to  the  Prince 
of  Orange  ;  half  was  spent  on  the  Queen's  navy. 

Alva  was  of  course  violently  angry.  He  arrested 
every  English  ship  in  the  Low  Countries.  He 
arrested  every  Englishman  that  he  could  catch,  and 
sequestered  all  English  property.  Elizabeth  re- 
taliated in  kind.  The  Spanish  and  Flemish 
property  taken  in  England  proved  to  be  worth 
double  what  had  been  secured  by  Alva.  Philip 
could  not  declare  war.  The  Netherlands  insurrec- 
tion was  straining  his  resources,  and  with  Elizabeth 
for  an  open  enemy  the  whole  weight  of  England 
would  have  been  thrown  on  the  side  of  the  Prince 
of  Orange.  Elizabeth  herself  should  have  declared 
war,  people  say,  instead  of  condescending  to 
such  tricks.  Perhaps  so ;  but  also  perhaps  not. 
These  insults,  steadily  maintained  and  unresented, 
shook  the  faith  of  mankind,  and  especially  of  her 
own  sailors,  in  the  invincibility  of  the  Spanish 
colossus. 

I  am  now  to  turn  to  another  side  of  the  subject. 
The  stories  which  I  have  told  you  show  the  temper 
of  the  time,  and  the  atmosphere  which  men  were 
breathing,  but  it  will  be  instructive  to  look  more 
closely  at  individual  persons,  and  I  will  take  first 
John  Hawkins  (afterwards  Sir  John),  a  peculiarly 
characteristic  figure. 
8 


34      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

The  Hawkinses  of  Plymouth  were  a  solid  middle- 
class  Devonshire  family,  who  for  two  generations 
had  taken  a  leading  part  in  the  business  of  the  town. 
They  still  suirvive  in  the  county — Achins  we  used 
to  caU  them  before  school  pronunciation  came  in, 
and  so  Philip  wrote  the  name  when  the  famous 
John  began  to  trouble  his  dreams.  I  have  already 
spoken  of  old  William  Hawkins,  John's  father, 
whom  Henry  VIII.  was  so  fond  of,  and  who  brought 
over  the  Brazilian  King.  Old  WiUiam  had  now 
retired  and  had  left  his  place  and  his  work  to  his 
son.  John  Hawkins  may  have  been  about  thirty  at 
Elizabeth's  accession.  He  had  witnessed  the  wild 
times  of  Edward  VI.  and  Mary,  but,  though  many 
of  his  friends  had  taken  to  the  privateering  busi- 
ness, Hawkins  appears  to  have  kept  clear  of  it,  and 
continued  steadily  at  trade.  One  of  these  friends, 
and  his  contemporary,  and  in  fact  his  near  relation, 
was  Thomas  Stukely,  afterwards  so  notorious — and 
a  word  may  be  said  of  Stukely's  career  as  a  contrast 
to  that  of  Hawkins.  He  was  a  younger  son  of  a 
leading  county  family,  went  to  London  to  seek  his 
fortune,  and  became  a  hanger-on  of  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour.  Doubtless  he  was  connected  with  Sey- 
mour's pirating  scheme  at  Scilly,  and  took  to  pirating 
as  an  occupation  like  other  Western  gentlemen. 
When  Elizabeth  became  Queen,  he  introduced  him- 
self at  Court  and  amused  her  with  his  conceit.  He 
meant  to  be  a  king,  nothing  less  than  a  king.  He 
would  go  to  Florida,  found  an  empire  there,  and 
write  to  the  Queen  as  his  dearest  sister.     She  gave 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    35 

him  leave  to  try.  He  bought  a  vessel  of  400  tons, 
got  100  tall  soldiers  to  join  him  besides  the  crew, 
and  sailed  from  Plymouth  in  1563.  Once  out  of 
harbour,  he  announced  that  the  sea  was  to  be  his 
Florida.  He  went  back  to  the  pirate  business, 
robbed  freely,  haunted  Irish  creeks,  and  set  up  an 
intimacy  with  the  Ulster  hero,  Shan  O'Neil.  Shan 
and  Stukely  became  bosom  friends.  Shan  wrote  to 
Elizabeth  to  recommend  that  she  should  make  over 
Ireland  to  Stukely  and  himself  to  manage,  and 
promised,  if  she  agreed,  to  make  it  such  an  Ireland 
as  had  never  been  seen,  which  they  probably  would. 
Elizabeth  not  consenting,  Stukely  turned  Papist, 
transferred  his  services  to  the  Pope  and  Philip,  and 
was  preparing  a  campaign  in  Ireland  under  the 
Pope's  direction,  when  he  was  tempted  to  join 
Sebastian  of  Portugal  in  the  African  expedition,  and 
there  got  himself  killed. 

Stukely  was  a  specimen  of  the  foolish  sort  of  the 
young  Devonshire  men ;  Hawkins  was  exactly  his 
opposite.  He  stuck  to  business,  avoided  politics, 
traded  with  Spanish  ports  without  ojffending  the 
Holy  Office,  and  formed  intimacies  and  connections 
with  the  Canary  Islands  especially,  where  it  was 
said  'he  grew  much  in  love  and  favour  with  the 
people.' 

At  the  Canaries  he  naturally  heard  much  about 
the  West  Indies.  He  was  adventurous.  His  Cana- 
ries friends  told  him  that  negroes  were  great  mer- 
chandise in  the  Spanish  settlements  in  Espailola, 
and  he  himself  was  intimately  acquainted  with  the 


36      English  Sea/men  in  the  Sixteenth  Gefrdury 

Guinea  coast,  and  knew  how  easily  such  a  cargo 
could  be  obtained. 

We  know  to  what  the  slave  trade  grew.  We  have 
all  learnt  to  repent  of  the  share  which  England  had 
in  it,  and  to  abhor  everyone  whose  hands  were 
stained  by  contact  with  so  accursed  a  business.  All 
that  may  be  taken  for  granted ;  but  we  must  look  at 
the  matter  as  it  would  have  been  represented  at  the 
Canaries  to  Hawkins  himself. 

The  Carib  races  whom  the  Spaniards  found  in 
Cuba  and  St.  Domingo  had  withered  before  them  as 
if  struck  by  a  blight.  Many  died  under  the.  lash  of 
the  Spanish  overseers;  many,  perhaps  the  most, 
from  the  mysterious  causes  which  have  made  the 
presence  of  civilisation  so  fatal  to  the  Red  Indian, 
the  Australian,  and  the  Maori.  It  is  with  men  as  it 
is  with  animals.  The  races  which  consent  to  be 
domesticated  prosper  and  multiply.  Those  which 
cannot  live  without  freedom  pine  like  caged  eagles 
or  disappear  like  the  buffaloes  of  the  prairies. 

Anyway,  the  natives  perished  out  of  the  islands 
of  the  Caribbean  Sea  with  a  rapidity  which  startled 
the  conquerors.  The  famous  Bishop  Las  Casas 
pitied  and  tried  to  save  the  remnant  that  were  left- 
The  Spanish  settlers  required  labourers  for  the 
plantations.  On  the  continent  of  Africa  were  another 
race,  savage  in  their  natural  state,  which  would 
domesticate  like  sheep  and  oxen,  and  learnt  and 
improved  in  the  white  man's  company.  The  negro 
never  rose  of  himself  out  of  barbarism;  as  his 
fathers  were,  so  he  remained  from  age  to  age ;  when 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    37 

left  free,  as  in  Liberia  and  in  Hayti,  he  reverts  to 
his  original  barbarism ;  while  in  subjection  to  the 
white  man  he  showed  then,  and  he  has  shown  since, 
high  capacities  of  intellect  and  character.  Such  is, 
such  was  the  fact.  It  struck  Las  Casas  that  if 
negroes  could  be  introduced  into  the  West  Indian 
islands,  the  Indians  might  be  left  alone ;  the  negroes 
themselves  would  have  a  chance  to  rise  out  of  their 
wretchedness,  could  be  made  into  Christians,  and 
could  be  saved  at  worst  from  the  horrid  fate  which 
awaited  many  of  them  in  their  own  country. 

The  black  races  varied  like  other  animals :  some 
were  gentle  and  timid,  some  were  ferocious  as 
wolves.  The  strong  tyrannised  over  the  weak, 
made  slaves  of  their  prisoners,  occasionally  ate 
them,  and  those  they  did  not  eat  they  sacrificed  at 
what  they  called  their  customs — offered  them  up 
and  cut  their  throats  at  the  altars  of  their  idols. 
These  customs  were  the  most  sacred  traditions  of 
the  negro  race.  They  were  suspended  while  the 
slave  trade  gave  the  prisoners  a  value.  They  re- 
vived when  the  slave  trade  was  abolished.  When 
Lord  Wolseley  a  few  years  back  entered  Ashantee, 
the  altars  were  coated  thick  with  the  blood  of 
hundreds  of  miserable  beings  who  had  been  freshly 
slaughtered  there.  Still  later  similar  horrid  scenes 
were  reported  from  Dahomey.  Sir  Bichard  Burton, 
who  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine,  spent  two 
months  with  the  King  of  Dahomey,  and  dilated  to 
me  on  the  benevolence  and  enlightenment  of  that 
excellent  monarch.     I  asked  why,  if  the  King  was 


38       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

so  benevolent,  he  did  not  alter  the  customs.  Burton 
looked  at  me  with  consternation.  'Alter  the  cus- 
toms ! '  he  said.  '  Would  you  have  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  alter  the  Liturgy  ? '  Las  Casas  and 
those  who  thought  as  he  did  are  not  to  be  charged 
with  infamous  inhumanity  if  they  proposed  to  buy 
these  poor  creatures  from  their  captors,  save  them 
from  Mumbo  Jumbo,  and  carry  them  to  countries 
where  they  would  be  valuable  property,  and  be  at 
least  as  well  cared  for  as  the  mules  and  horses. 

The  experiment  was  tried  and  seemed  to  suc- 
ceed. The  negroes  who  were  rescued  from  the 
customs  and  were  carried  to  the  Spanish  islands 
proved  docile  and  useful.  Portuguese  and  Spanish 
factories  were  established  on  the  coast  of  Guinea. 
The  black  chiefs  were  glad  to  make  money  out  of 
their  wretched  victims,  and  readily  sold  them. 
The  transport  over  the  Atlantic  became  a  regular 
branch  of  business.  Strict  laws  were  made  for  the 
good  treatment  of  the  slaves  on  the  plantations. 
The  trade  was  carried  on  under  license  from  the 
Government,  and  an  import  duty  of  thirty  ducats 
per  head  was  charged  on  every  negro  that  was 
landed.  I  call  it  an  experiment.  The  full  conse- 
quences could  not  be  foreseen,  and  I  cannot  see 
that  as  an  experiment  it  merits  the  censures  which 
in  its  later  developments  it  eventually  came  to 
deserve.  Las  Casas,  who  approved  of  it,  was  one 
of  the  most  excellent  of  men.  Our  own  Bishop 
Butler  could  give  no  decided  opinion  against  negro 
slavery  as  it  existed  in  his  time.     It  is  absurd  to 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    39 

say  that  ordinary  merchants  and  ship  captains 
ought  to  have  seen  the  infamy  of  a  practice  which 
Las  Casas  advised  and  Butler  could  not  condemn. 
The  Spanish  and  Portuguese  Governments  claimed, 
as  I  said,  the  control  of  the  traffic.  The  Spanish 
settlers  in  the  West  Indies  objected  to  a  restriction 
which  raised  the  price  and  shortened  the  supply. 
They  considered  that  having  established  themselves 
in  a  new  country  they  had  a  right  to  a  voice  in  the 
conditions  of  their  occupancy.  It  was  thus  that 
the  Spaniards  in  the  Canaries  represented  the 
matter  to  John  Hawkins.  They  told  him  that  if 
he  liked  to  make  the  venture  with  a  contraband 
cargo  from  Guinea,  their  countrymen  would  give 
him  an  enthusiastic  welcome.  It  is  evident  from 
the  story  that  neither  he  nor  they  expected  that 
serious  offence  would  be  taken  at  Madrid.  Hawkins 
at  this  time  was  entirely  friendly  with  the  Span- 
iards. It  was  enough  if  he  could  be  assured  that 
the  colonists  would  be  glad  to  deal  with  him. 

I  am  not  crediting  him  with  the  benevolent  pur- 
poses of  Las  Casas.  I  do  not  suppose  Hawkins 
thought  much  of  saving  black  men's  souls.  He 
saw  only  an  opportunity  of  extending  his  business 
among  a  people  with  whom  he  was  already  largely 
connected.  The  traffic  was  established.  It  had 
the  sanction  of  the  Church,  and  no  objection  had 
been  raised  to  it  anywhere  on  the  score  of  morality. 
The  only  question  which  could  have  presented  itself 
to  Hawkins  was  of  the  right  of  the  Spanish  Govern- 
ment to  prevent  foreigners  from  getting  a  share  of 


40      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

a  lucrative  trade  against  the  wishes  of  its  subjects. 
And  his  friends  at  the  Canaries  certainly  did  not 
lead  him  to  expect  any  real  opposition.  One 
regrets  that  a  famous  Englishman  should  have 
been  connected  with  the  slave  trade ;  but  we  have 
no  right  to  heap  violent  censures  upon  him  because 
he  was  no  more  enlightened  than  the  wisest  of  his 
contemporaries. 

Thus,  encouraged  from  Santa  Cruz,  Hawkins  on 
his  return  to  England  formed  an  African  company 
out  of  the  leading  citizens  of  London.  Three 
vessels  were  fitted  out,  Hawkins  being  commander 
and  part  owner.  The  size  of  them  is  remarkable : 
the  Solomon^  as  the  largest  was  called,  120  tons; 
the  Swallow,  100  tons ;  the  Jona^  not  above  40  tons. 
This  represents  them  as  inconceivably  small.  They 
carried  between  them  a  himdred  men,  and  ample 
room  had  to  be  provided  besides  for  the  blacks. 
There  may  have  been  a  diflference  in  the  measure- 
ment of  tonnage.  We  ourselves  have  five  stand- 
ards: builder's  measurement,  yacht  measurement, 
displacement,  sail  area,  and  register  measurement. 
Registered  tonnage  is  far  under  the  others :  a  yacht 
registered  120  tons  would  be  called  200  in  a  ship- 
ping list.  However  that  be,  the  brigantines  and 
sloops  used  by  the  Elizabethans  on  all  adventurous 
expeditions  were  mere  boats  compared  with  what 
we  should  use  now  on  such  occasions.  The  reason 
was  obvious.  Success  depended  on  speed  and 
sailing  power.  The  art  of  building  big  square- 
rigged  ships  which  would  work  to  windward  had 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    41 

not  been  yet  discovered,  even  by  Mr.  Fletcher  of 
Rye.  The  fore-and-aft  rig  alone  would  enable  a 
vessel  to  tack,  as  it  is  called,  and  this  could  only  be 
used  with  craft  of  moderate  tonnage. 

The  expedition  sailed  in  October  1562.  They 
called  at  the  Canaries,  where  they  were  warmly 
entertained.  They  went  on  to  Sierra  Leone,  where 
they  collected  300  negroes.  They  avoided  the 
Government  factories,  and  picked  them  up  as  they 
could,  some  by  force,  some  by  negotiation  with 
local  chiefs,  who  were  as  ready  to  sell  their  subjects 
as  Sancho  Panza  intended  to  be  when  he  got  his 
island.  They  crossed  without  misadventure  to  St. 
Domingo,  where  Hawkins  represented  that  he  was 
on  a  voyage  of  discovery ;  that  he  had  been  driven 
out  of  his  course  and  wanted  food  and  money.  He 
said  he  had  certain  slaves  with  him,  which  he  asked 
permission  to  sell.  What  he  had  heard  at  the 
Canaries  turned  out  to  be  exactly  true.  So  far  as 
the  Governor  of  St.  Domingo  knew,  Spain  and  Eng- 
land were  at  peace.  Privateers  had  not  troubled 
the  peace  of  the  Caribbean  Sea,  or  dangerous  here- 
tics menaced  the  Catholic  faith  there.  Inquisitors 
might  have  been  suspicious,  but  the  Inquisition  had 
not  yet  been  established  beyond  the  Atlantic.  The 
Queen  of  England  was  his  sovereign's  sister-in-law, 
and  the  Governor  saw  no  reason  why  he  should 
construe  his  general  instructions  too  literally.  The 
planters  were  eager  to  buy,  and  he  did  not  wish  to 
be  unpopular.  He  allowed  Hawkins  to  sell  two 
hundred  out  of  his  three  hundred  negroes,  leaving 


42       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

the  remaining  hundred  as  a  deposit  should  question 
be  raised  about  the  duty.  Evidently  the  only  doubt 
in  the  Governor's  mind  was  whether  the  Madrid 
authorities  would  charge  foreign  importers  on  a 
higher  scale.  The  question  was  new.  No  stranger 
had  as  yet  attempted  to  trade  there. 

Everyone  was  satisfied,  except  the  negroes,  who 
were  not  asked  their  opinion.  The  profits  were 
enormous.  A  ship  in  the  harbour  was  about  to  sail 
for  Cadiz.  Hawkins  invested  most  of  what  he  had 
made  in  a  cargo  of  hides,  for  which,  as  he  under- 
stood, there  was  a  demand  in  Spain,  and  he  sent 
them  over  in  her  in  charge  of  one  of  his  partners. 
The  Governor  gave  him  a  testimonial  for  good  con- 
duct during  his  stay  in  the  port,  and  with  this  and 
with  his  three  vessels  he  returned  leisurely  to  Eng- 
land, having,  as  he  imagined,  been  splendidly  suc- 
cessful. 

He  was  to  be  unpleasantly  undeceived.  A  few 
days  after  he  had  arrived  at  Plymouth,  he  met  the 
man  whom  he  had  sent  to  Cadiz  with  the  hides  for- 
lorn and  empty-handed.  The  Inquisition,  he  said, 
had  seized  the  cargo  and  confiscated  it.  An  order 
had  been  sent  to  St.  Domingo  to  forfeit  the  reserved 
slaves.  He  himself  had  escaped  for  his  life,  as  the 
familiars  had  been  after  him. 

Nothing  shows  more  clearly  how  little  thought 
there  had  been  in  Hawkins  that  his  voyage  would 
have  given  offence  in  Spain  than  the  astonishment 
with  which  he  heard  the  news.  He  protested.  He 
wrote  to  Philip.     Finding  entreaties  useless,  he 


John  HawJdns  and  the  African  Slave.  Trade    43 

swore  vengeance ;  but  threats  were  equally  ineffect- 
ual. Not  a  hide,  not  a  farthing  could  he  recover. 
The  Spanish  Government,  terrified  at  the  intrusion 
of  English  adventurers  into  their  western  paradise 
to  endanger  the  gold  fleets,  or  worse  to  endanger 
the  purity  of  the  faith,  issued  orders  more  peremp- 
tory than  ever  to  close  the  ports  there  against  all 
foreigners.  Philip  personally  warned  Sir  Thomas 
Chaloner,  the  English  ambassador,  that  if  such 
visits  were  repeated,  mischief  would  come  of  it. 
And  Cecil,  who  disliked  all  such  semi-piratical 
enterprises,  and  Chaloner,  who  was  half  a  Spaniard 
and  an  old  companion  in  arms  of  Charles  V.,  en- 
treated their  mistress  to  forbid  them. 

Elizabeth,  however,  had  her  own  views  in  such 
matters.  She  liked  money.  She  liked  encouraging 
the  adventurous  disposition  of  her  subjects,  who 
were  fighting  the  State's  battles  at  their  own  risk 
and  cost.  She  saw  in  Philip's  anger  a  confession 
that  the  West  Indies  was  his  vulnerable  point ;  and 
that  if  she  wished  to  frighten  him  into  letting  her 
alone,  and  to  keep  the  Inquisition  from  burning  her 
sailors,  there  was  the  place  where  Philip  would  be 
more  sensitive.  Probably,  too,  she  thought  that 
Hawkins  had  done  nothing  for  which  he  could  be 
justly  blamed.  He  had  traded  at  St.  Domingo  with 
the  Governor's  consent,  and  confiscation  was  sharp 
practice. 

This  was  clearly  Hawkins's  own  view  of  the  matter. 
He  had  injured  no  one.  He  had  offended  no  pious  ears 
by  parading  his  Protestantism.    He  was  not  Philip's 


44      ETiglish  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

subject,  and  was  not  to  be  expected  to  know  the  in- 
structions given  by  the  Spanish  Government  in  the 
remote  comers  of  their  dominions.  If  anyone  was 
to  be  punished,  it  was  not  he  but  the  Governor.  He 
held  that  he  had  been  robbed,  and  had  a  right 
to  indemnify  himseK  at  the  Bang's  expense.  He 
would  go  out  again.  He  was  certain  of  a  cordial 
reception  from  the  planters.  Between  him  and 
them  there  was  the  friendliest  understanding.  His 
quarrel  was  with  PhiUp,  and  Philip  only.  He 
meant  to  sell  a  fresh  cargo  of  negroes,  and  the 
Madrid  Government  should  go  without  their  30  per 
cent.  duty. 

EUzabeth  approved.  Hawkins  had  opened  the 
road  to  the  West  Indies.  He  had  shown  how  easy 
slave  smuggling  was,  and  how  profitable  it  was; 
how  it  was  also  possible  for  the  English  to  establish 
friendly  relations  with  the  Spanish  settlers  in  the 
West  Indies,  whether  Philip  liked  it  or  not.  An- 
other company  was  formed  for  a  second  trial.  Eliza- 
beth took  shares,  Lord  Pembroke  took  shares,  and 
other  members  of  the  Council.  The  Queen  lent  the 
Jesus,  a  large  ship  of  her  own,  of  700  tons.  Formal 
instructions  were  given  that  no  wrong  was  to  be 
done  to  the  King  of  Spain,  but  what  wrong  might 
mean  was  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  commander. 
Where  the  planters  were  all  eager  to  purchase, 
means  of  traffic  would  be  discovered  without  collis- 
ion with  the  authorities.  This  time  the  expedition 
was  to  be  on  a  larger  scale,  and  a  hundred  soldiers 
Were  put  on  board  to  provide  for  contingencies. 


John  Hmohins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    45 

Thus  furnished,  Hawkins  started  on  his  second 
voyage  in  October  1564.  The  autumn  was  chosen, 
to  avoid  the  extreme  tropical  heats.  He  touched  as 
before  to  see  his  friends  at  the  Canaries.  He  went 
on  to  the  Eio  Grande,  met  with  adventures  bad  and 
good,  found  a  chief  at  war  with  a  neighbouring 
tribe,  helped  to  capture  a  town  and  take  prisoners, 
made  purchases  at  a  Portuguese  factory.  In  this 
way  he  now  secured  400  human  cattle,  perhaps  for  a 
better  fate  than  they  would  have  met  with  at  home, 
and  with  these  he  sailed  off  in  the  old  direction. 
Near  the  equator  he  fell  in  with  calms ;  he  was  short 
of  water,  and  feared  to  lose  some  of  them ;  but,  as 
the  record  of  the  voyage  puts  it,  '  Almighty  God 
would  not  suffer  His  elect  to  perish,'  and  sent  a 
breeze  which  carried  him  safe  to  Dominica.  In 
that  wettest  of  islands  he  found  water  in  plenty,  and 
had  then  to  consider  what  next  he  would  do.  St. 
Domingo,  he  thought,  would  be  no  longer  safe  for 
him ;  so  he  struck  across  to  the  Spanish  Main  to  a 
place  called  Burboroata,  where  he  might  hope  that 
nothing  would  be  known  about  him.  In  this  he  was 
mistaken.  Philip's  orders  had  arrived :  no  English- 
man of  any  creed  or  kind  was  to  be  allowed  to  trade 
in  his  West  India  dominions.  The  settlers,  how- 
ever, intended  to  trade.  They  required  only  a  dis- 
play of  force  that  they  might  pretend  that  they  were 
yielding  to  compulsion.  Hawkins  told  his  old  story. 
He  said  that  he  was  out  on  the  service  of  the  Queen 
of  England.  He  ha^  been  driven  off  his  course  by 
bad  weather.     He  was  short  of  supplies  and  had 


46      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

many  men  on  board,  who  might  do  the  town  some 
mischief  if  they  were  not  allowed  to  land  peace- 
ably and  buy  and  sell  what  they  wanted.  The  Gov- 
ernor affecting  to  hesitate,  he  threw  120  men  on 
shore,  and  brought  his  guns  to  bear  on  the  castle. 
The  Governor  gave  way  under  protest.  Hawkins 
was  to  be  permitted  to  sell  half  his  negroes.  He 
said  that  as  he  had  been  treated  so  inhospitably  he 
would  not  pay  the  30  per  cent.  The  King  of  Spain 
should  have  7^,  and  no  more.  The  settlers  had  no 
obj  ection.  The  price  would  be  the  less,  and  with  this 
deduction  his  business  was  easily  finished  off.  He 
bought  no  more  hides,  and  was  paid  in  solid  silver. 

From  Burboroata  he  went  on  to  Rio  de  la  Hacha, 
where  the  same  scene  was  repeated.  The  whole 
400  were  disposed  of,  this  time  with  ease  and  com- 
plete success.  He  had  been  rapid,  and  had  the 
season  still  before  him.  Having  finished  his  busi- 
ness, he  surveyed  a  large  part  of  the  Caribbean  Sea, 
taking  soundings,  noting  the  currents,  and  making 
charts  of  the  coasts  and  islands.  This  done,  he 
turned  homewards,  following  the  east  shore  of  North 
America  as  far  as  Newfoundland.  There  he  gave 
his  crew  a  change  of  diet,  with  fresh  cod  from  the 
Banks,  and  after  eleven  months'  absence  he  sailed 
into  Padstow,  having  lost  but  twenty  men  in  the 
whole  adventure,  and  bringing  back  60  per  cent,  to 
the  Queen  and  the  other  shareholders. 

Nothing  succeeds  like  success.  Hawkins's  praises 
were  in  everyone's  mouth,  and  in  London  he  was 
the  hero  of  the  hour.     Elizabeth  received  him  at 


John  Hawldns  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    4? 

the  palace.  The  Spanish  ambassador,  De  Silva, 
met  him  there  at  dinner.  He  talked  freely  of  where 
he  had  been  and  of  what  he  had  done,  only  keeping 
back  the  gentle  Adolence  which  he  had  used.  He 
regarded  this  as  a  mere  farce,  since  there  had  been 
no  one  hurt  on  either  side.  He  boasted  of  having 
given  the  greatest  satisfaction  to  the  Spaniards  who 
had  dealt  with  him.  De  Silva  could  but  bow,  report 
to  his  master,  and  ask  instructions  how  he  was  to 
proceed. 

Philip  was  frightfully  disturbed.  He  saw  in 
prospect  his  western  subjects  allying  themselves 
with  the  English — heresy  creeping  in  among  them ; 
his  gold  fleets  in  danger,  all  the  possibilities  with 
which  Elizabeth  had  wished  to  alarm  him.  He 
read  and  re-read  De  Silva's  letters,  and  opposite  the 
name  of  Achines  he  wrote  startled  interjections  on 
the  margin  :  '  Ojo !  Ojo  ! ' 

The  political  horizon  was  just  then  favourable  to 
Elizabeth.  The  Queen  of  Scots  was  a  prisoner  in 
Loch  Leven ;  the  Netherlands  were  in  revolt ;  the 
Huguenots  were  looking  up  in  France ;  and  when 
Hawkins  proposed  a  third  expedition,  she  thought 
that  she  could  safely  allow  it.  She  gave  him  the 
use  of  the  Jesus  again,  with  another  smaller  ship  of 
hers,  the  Minion.  He  had  two  of  his  own  still  fit 
for  work ;  and  a  fifth,  the  Jvdith,  was  brought  in 
by  his  young  cousin,  Francis  Drake,  who  was  now 
to  make  his  first  appearance  on  the  stage.  I  shall 
tell  you  by  -  and  -  by  who  and  what  Drake  was. 
Enough  to  say  now  that  he  was  a  relation  of  Haw- 


48       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

kins,  the  owner  of  a  small  smart  sloop  or  brigantine, 
and  ambitious  of  a  share  in  a  stirring  business. 

The  Plymouth  seamen  were  falling  into  danger- 
ous contempt  of  Philip.  While  the  expedition  was 
fitting  out,  a  ship  of  the  King's  came  into  Catwater 
with  more  prisoners  from  Flanders.  She  was  flying 
the  CastUian  flag,  contrary  to  rule,  it  was  said,  in 
English  harbours.  The  treatment  of  the  English 
ensign  at  Gibraltar  had  not  been  forgiven,  and 
Hawkins  ordered  the  Spanish  captain  to  strike  his 
colours.  The  captain  refused,  and  Hawkins  in- 
stantly fired  into  him.  In  the  confusion  the  pris- 
oners escaped  on  board  the  Jesus  and  were  let  go. 
The  captain  sent  a  complaint  to  London,  and  Cecil 
— who  disapproved  of  Hawkins  and  all  his  proceed- 
ings— sent  down  an  oflB.cer  to  inquire  into  what  had 
happened.  Hawkins,  confident  in  Elizabeth's  pro- 
tection, quietly  answered  that  the  Spaniard  had 
broken  the  laws  of  the  port,  and  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  assert  the  Queen's  authority. 

'Your  mariners,'  said  De  Silva  to  her,  'rob  our 
subjects  on  the  sea,  trade  where  they  are  forbidden 
to  go,  and  fire  upon  our  ships  in  your  harbours. 
Your  preachers  insult  my  master  from  their  pulpits, 
and  when  we  remonstrate  we  are  answered  with 
menaces.  We  have  borne  so  far  with  their  injuries, 
attributing  them  rather  to  temper  and  bad  manners 
than  to  deliberate  purpose.  But,  seeing  that  no 
redress  can  be  had,  and  that  the  same  treatment 
of  us  continues,  I  must  consult  my  Sovereign's 
pleasure.     For  the  last  time,  I  require  your  Majesty 


John  Hawkins  and  the  African  Slave  Trade    49 

to  punish  this  outrage  at  Plymouth  and  preserve 
the  peace  between  the  two  realms.' 

No  remonstrance  could  seem  more  just  till  the 
other  side  was  heard.  The  other  side  was  that  the 
Pope  and  the  Catholic  powers  were  undertaking  to 
force  the  Protestants  of  France  and  Flanders  back 
under  the  Papacy  with  fire  and  sword.  It  was  no 
secret  that  England's  turn  was  to  follow  as  soon  as 
Philip's  hands  were  free.  Meanwhile  he  had  been 
intriguing  with  the  Queen  of  Scots ;  he  had  been 
encouraging  Ireland  in  rebellion  ;  he  had  been  per- 
secuting English  merchants  and  seamen,  starving 
them  to  death  in  the  Inquisition  dungeons,  or  burn- 
ing them  at  the  stake.  The  Smithfield  infamies 
were  fresh  in  Protestant  memories,  and  who  could 
tell  how  soon  the  horrid  work  would  begin  again  at 
home,  if  the  Catholic  powers  could  have  their  way  ? 

If  the  King  of  Spain  and  his  Holiness  at  Rome 
would  have  allowed  other  nations  to  think  and 
make  laws  for  themselves,  pirates  and  privateers 
would  have  disappeared  off  the  ocean.  The  West 
Indies  would  have  been  left  undisturbed,  and  Span- 
ish, English,  French,  and  Flemings  would  have 
lived  peacefully  side  by  side  as  they  do  now.  But 
spiritual  tyranny  had  not  yet  learned  its  lesson,  and 
the  *  Beggars  of  the  Sea '  were  to  be  Philip's  school- 
masters in  irregular  but  effective  fashion. 

Elizabeth  listened  politely  to  what  De  Silva 
said,  promised  to  examine  into  his  complaints,  and 
allowed  Hawkins  to  sail. 

What  befell  him  you  will  hear  in  the  next  lecture. 

4 


LECTUEE  in 

SIR   JOHN  HAWKINS  AND  PHILIP  THE  SECOND 

My  last  lecture  left  Hawkins  preparing  to  start  on 
his  third  and,  as  it  proved,  most  eventful  voyage. 
I  mentioned  that  he  was  joined  by  a  young  relation, 
of  whom  I  must  say  a  few  preliminary  words. 
Francis  Drake  was  a  Devonshire  man,  like  Hawkins 
himself  and  Ealeigh  and  Davis  and  Gilbert,  and 
many  other  famous  men  of  those  days.  He  was 
bom  at  Tavistock  somewhere  about  1540.  He 
told  Camden  that  he  was  of  mean  extraction.  He 
meant  merely  that  he  was  proud  of  his  parents  and 
made  no  idle  pretensions  to  noble  birth.  His  father 
was  a  tenant  of  the  Earl  of  Bedford,  and  must  have 
stood  well  with  him,  for  Francis  Russell,  the  heir 
of  the  earldom,  was  the  boy's  godfather.  From 
him  Drake  took  his  Christian  name.  The  Drakes 
were  early  converts  to  Protestantism.  Trouble 
rising  at  Tavistock  on  the  Six  Articles  BiQ,  they 
removed  to  Kent,  where  the  father,  probably 
through  Lord  Bedford's  influence,  was  appointed  a 
lay  chaplain  in  Henry  Vin.'s  fleet  at  Chatham. 
In  the  next  reign,  when  the  Protestants  were  upper- 
most, he  was  ordained  and  became  vicar  of  Upnor 
on  the  Medway.     Young  Francis  took  early  to  the 


Sir  John  Haivkins  and  Philip  the  Second    51 

water,  and  made  acquaiutance  with  a  ship-master 
trading  to  the  Channel  ports,  who  took  him  on 
board  his  ship  and  bred  him  as  a  sailor.  The  boy 
distinguished  himself,  and  his  patron  when  he  died 
left  Drake  his  vessel  in  his  will.  For  several  years 
Drake  stuck  steadily  to  his  coasting  work,  made 
money,  and  made  a  solid  reputation.  His  ambition 
grew  with  his  success.  The  seagoing  English  were 
all  full  of  Hawkins  and  his  West  Indian  exploits. 
The  Hawkinses  and  the  Drakes  were  near  relations. 
Hearing  that  there  was  to  be  another  expedition, 
and  having  obtained  his  cousin's  consent,  Francis 
Drake  sold  his  brig,  bought  the  Judith,  a  handier 
and  faster  vessel,  and  with  a  few  stout  sailors  from 
the  river  went  down  to  Plymouth  and  joined. 

De  Silva  had  sent  word  to  PhiHp  that  Hawkins 
was  again  going  out,  and  preparations  had  been 
made  to  receive  him.  Suspecting  nothing,  Hawkins 
with  his  four  consorts  sailed,  as  before,  in  October 
1567.  The  start  was  ominous.  He  was  caught 
and  badly  knocked  about  by  an  equinoctial  in  the 
Bay  of  Biscay.  He  lost  his  boats.  The  Jesvs 
strained  her  timbers  and  leaked,  and  he  so  little 
liked  the  looks  of  things  that  he  even  thought  of 
turning  back  and  giving  up  the  expedition  for  the 
season.  However,  the  weather  mended.  They  put 
themselves  to  rights  at  the  Canaries,  picked  up 
their  spirits,  and  proceeded.  The  slave-catching 
was  managed  successfully,  though  with  some 
Increased  difficulty.  The  cargo  with  equal  success 
was  disposed  of  at  the  Spanish  settlements.      At 


62      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

one  place  the  planters  came  off  in  their  boats  at 
night  to  buy.  At  Kio  de  la  Hacha,  where  the  most 
imperative  orders  had  been  sent  to  forbid  his 
admittance,  Hawkins  landed  a  force  as  before  and 
took  possession  of  the  town,  of  course  with  the 
connivance  of  the  settlers.  At  Carthagena  he  was 
similarly  ordered  off,  and  as  Carthagena  was 
strongly  fortified  he  did  not  venture  to  meddle  with 
it.  But  elsewhere  he  found  ample  markets  for  his 
wares.  He  sold  all  his  blacks.  By  this  and  by 
other  dealings  he  had  collected  what  is  described 
as  a  vast  treasure  of  gold,  silver,  and  jewels.  The 
hurricane  season  was  approaching,  and  he  made  the 
best  of  his  way  homewards  with  his  spoils,  in  the 
fear  of  being  overtaken  by  it.  Unluckily  for  him, 
he  had  lingered  too  long.  He  had  passed  the  west 
point  of  Cuba  and  was  working  up  the  back  of  the 
island  when  a  hurricane  came  down  on  him.  The 
gale  lasted  four  days.  The  ships'  bottoms  were 
foul  and  they  could  make  no  way.  Spars  were  lost 
and  rigging  carried  away.  The  Jesus,  which  had 
not  been  seaworthy  all  along,  leaked  worse  than 
ever  and  lost  her  rudder.  Hawkins  looked  for  some 
port  in  Florida,  but  found  the  coast  shallow  and 
dangerous,  and  was  at  last  obliged  to  run  for  San 
Joan  de  Ulloa,  at  the  bottom  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
San  Juan  de  Ulloa  is  a  few  miles  only  from 
Vera  Cruz.  It  was  at  that  time  the  chief  port  of 
Mexico,  through  which  all  the  traffic  passed  between 
the  colony  and  the  mother- country,  and  was  thus  a 
place  of  some  consequence.     It  stands  on  a  small 


Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second     63 

baj  facing  towards  the  north.  Across  the  mouth 
of  this  bay  lies  a  narrow  ridge  of  sand  and  shingle, 
half  a  mile  long,  which  acts  as  a  natural  break- 
water and  forms  the  harbour.  This  ridge,  or  island 
as  it  was  called,  was  uninhabited,  but  it  had  been 
faced  on  the  inner  front  by  a  wall.  The  water  was 
deep  alongside,  and  vessels  could  thus  lie  in  perfect 
security,  secured  by  their  cables  to  rings  let  into 
the  masonry. 

The  prevailing  wind  was  from  the  north,  bringing 
in  a  heavy  surf  on  the  back  of  the  island.  There 
was  an  opening  at  both  ends,  but  only  one  available 
for  vessels  of  large  draught.  In  this  the  channel 
was  narrow,  and  a  battery  at  the  end  of  the  break- 
water would  completely  command  it.  The  town 
stood  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  bay. 

Into  a  Spanish  port  thus  constructed  Hawkins 
entered  with  his  battered  squadron  on  September 
16,  1568.  He  could  not  have  felt  entirely  easy.  But 
he  probably  thought  that  he  had  no  iU-will  to  fear 
from  the  inhabitants  generally,  and  that  the  Spanish 
authorities  would  not  be  strong  enough  to  meddle 
with  him.  His  ill  star  had  brought  him  there  at  a 
time  when  Alvarez  de  Ba9an,  the  same  officer  who 
had  destroyed  the  English  ships  at  Gibraltar,  was 
daily  expected  from  Spain — sent  by  Philip,  as  it 
proved,  especially  to  look  for  him.  Hawkins,  when 
he  appeared  outside,  had  been  mistaken  for  the 
Spanish  admiral,  and  it  was  under  this  impression 
that  he  had  been  allowed  to  enter.  The  error  was 
quickly  discovered  on  both  sides. 


54      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  CerUury 

Though  still  ignorant  that  he  was  himself  De 
Ba§an's  particular  object,  yet  De  Ba§an  was  the  last 
officer  whom  in  his  crippled  condition  he  would 
have  cared  to  encounter.  Several  Spanish  mer- 
chantmen were  in  the  port  richly  loaded  :  with  these 
of  course  he  did  not  meddle,  though,  if  reinforced, 
they  might  perhaps  meddle  with  him.  As  his  best 
resource  he  despatched  a  courier  on  the  instant  to 
Mexico  to  inform  the  Viceroy  of  his  arrival,  to  say 
that  he  had  an  English  squadron  with  him ;  that  he 
had  been  driven  in  by  stress  of  weather  and  need  of 
repairs ;  that  the  Queen  was  an  ally  of  the  King  of 
Spain ;  and  that,  as  he  understood  a  Spanish  fleet 
was  likely  soon  to  arrive,  he  begged  the  Viceroy  to 
make  arrangements  to  prevent  disputes. 

As  yet,  as  I  said  in  the  last  lecture,  there  was  no 
Inquisition  in  Mexico.  It  was  established  there 
three  years  later,  for  the  special  benefit  of  the  Eng- 
lish. But  so  far  there  was  no  ill-will  towards  the 
English — rather  the  contrary.  Hawkins  had  hurt 
no  one,  and  the  negro  trading  had  been  eminently 
popular.  The  Viceroy  might  perhaps  have  connived 
at  Hawkins's  escape,  but  again  by  ill-fortune  he  was 
himself  under  orders  of  recall,  and  his  successor 
was  coming  out  in  this  particular  fleet  with  De 
Ba§an. 

Had  he  been  well  disposed  and  free  to  act  it  would 
still  have  been  too  late,  for  the  very  next  morning, 
September  17,  De  Ba§an  was  oflf  the  harbour  mouth 
with  thirteen  heavily  armed  galleons  and  frigates. 
The  smallest  of  them  carried  probably  200  men,  and 


Sir  John  Haiokins  and  Philip  the  Second     65 

the  odds  were  now  tremendous.  Hawkins's  vessels 
lay  ranged  along  the  inner  bank  or  wall  of  the  island. 
He  instantly  occupied  the  island  itself  and  mounted 
guns  at  the  point  covering  the  way  in.  He  then  sent 
a  boat  off  to  De  Ba§an  to  say  that  he  was  an  English- 
man, that  he  was  in  possession  of  the  port,  and  must 
forbid  the  entrance  of  the  Spanish  fleet  till  he  was 
assured  that  there  was  to  be  no  violence.  It  was  a 
strong  measure  to  shut  a  Spanish  admiral  out  of  a 
Spanish  port  in  a  time  of  profound  peace.  Still,  the 
way  in  was  difficult,  and  could  not  be  easily  forced 
if  resolutely  defended.  The  northerly  wind  was  ris- 
ing ;  if  it  blew  into  a  gale  the  Spaniards  would  be  on 
a  lee  shore.  Under  desperate  circumstances,  des- 
perate things  will  be  done.  Hawkins  in  his  subse- 
quent report  thus  explains  his  dilemma  : — 

*I  was  in  two  difficulties.  Either  I  must  keep 
them  out  of  the  port,  which  with  God's  grace  I  could 
easily  have  done,  in  which  case  with  a  northerly 
wind  rising  they  would  have  been  wrecked,  and  I 
should  have  been  answerable ;  or  I  must  risk  their 
playing  false,  which  on  the  whole  I  preferred 
to  do.' 

The  northerly  gale  it  appears  did  not  rise,  or  the 
English  commander  might  have  preferred  the  first 
alternative.  Three  days  passed  in  negotiation.  De 
Bagan  and  Don  Enriquez,  the  new  Viceroy,  were 
naturally  anxious  to  get  into  shelter  out  of  a  dan- 
gerous position,  and  were  equally  desirous  not  to 
promise  any  more  than  was  absolutely  necessary. 
The  final  agreement  was  that  De  Bagan  and  the  fleet 


56       English  Seamen  in  tJie  Sixteenth  Century 

should  enter  without  opposition.  Hawkins  might 
stay  till  he  had  repaired  his  damages,  and  buy  and 
sell  what  he  wanted ;  and  further,  as  long  as  they 
remained  the  English  were  to  keep  possession  of 
the  island.  This  article,  Hawkins  says,  was  long 
resisted,  but  was  consented  to  at  last.  It  was  abso- 
lutely necessary,  for  with  the  island  in  their  hands, 
the  Spaniards  had  only  to  cut  the  English  cables, 
and  they  would  have  driven  ashore  across  the 
harbour. 

The  treaty  so  drawn  was  formally  signed.  Hostv. 
ages  were  given  on  both  sides,  and  De  Bayan  came 
in.  The  two  fleets  were  moored  as  far  apart  from 
each  other  as  the  size  of  the  port  would  allow. 
Courtesies  were  exchanged,  and  for  two  days  all 
went  weU.  It  is  likely  that  the  Viceroy  and  the 
admiral  did  not  at  first  know  that  it  was  the  very 
man  whom  they  had  been  sent  out  to  sink  or  cap- 
ture who  was  lying  so  close  to  them.  When  they 
did  know  it  they  may  have  looked  on  him  as  a 
pirate,  with  whom,  as  with  heretics,  there  was  no 
need  to  keep  faith.  Any  way,  the  rat  was  in  the 
trap,  and  De  Ba9an  did  not  mean  to  let  him  out. 
The  Jesus  lay  furthest  in ;  the  Minion  lay  beyond 
her  towards  the  entrance,  moored  apparently  to  a 
ring  on  the  quay,  but  free  to  move ;  and  the  Judith^ 
further  out  again,  moored  in  the  same  way.  Noth- 
ing is  said  of  the  two  small  vessels  remaining. 

De  Ba9an  made  his  preparations  silently,  covered 
by  the  iovm..  He  had  men  in  abundance  ready  to 
act  where  he  should  direct.     On  the  third  day,  the 


Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second     57 

20tli  of  September,  at  noon,  the  Minion's  crew  had 
gone  to  dinner,  when  they  saw  a  large  hulk  of  900 
tons  slowly  towing  up  alongside  of  them.  Not 
liking  such  a  neighbour,  they  had  their  cable  ready 
to  slip  and  began  to  set  their  canvas.  On  a  sudden 
shots  and  cries  were  heard  from  the  town.  Parties 
of  English  who  were  on  land  were  set  upon  ;  many 
were  killed  ;  the  rest  were  seen  flinging  themselves 
into  the  water  and  swimming  off  to  the  ships.  At 
the  same  instant  the  guns  of  the  galleons  and  of  the 
shore  batteries  opened  fire  on  the  Jesus  and  her 
consorts,  and  in  the  smoke  and  confusion  300  Span- 
iards swarmed  out  of  the  hulk  and  sprang  on  the 
Minion's  decks.  The  Minion's  men  instantly  cut 
them  down  or  drove  them  overboard,  hoisted  sail, 
and  forced  their  way  out  of  the  harbour,  followed  by 
the  Judith.  The  Jesus  was  left  alone,  unable  to  stir. 
She  defended  herself  desperately.  In  the  many 
actions  which  were  fought  afterwards  between  the 
English  and  the  Spaniards,  there  was  never  any 
more  gallant  or  more  severe.  De  Ba9an's  own  ship 
was  sunk  and  the  vice-admiral's  was  set  on  fire. 
The  Spanish,  having  an  enormous  advantage  in 
numbers,  were  able  to  land  a  force  on  the  island, 
seize  the  English  battery  there,  cut  down  the  gun- 
ners, and  turn  the  guns  close  at  hand  on  the  devoted 
Jesm.  Still  she  fought  on,  defeating  every  attempt 
to  board,  till  at  length  De  Bagan  sent  down  fire- 
ships  on  her,  and  then  the  end  came.  All  that 
Hawkins  had  made  by  his  voyage,  money,  bullion, 
the  ship  herself,  had  to  be  left  to  their  fate.     Haw- 


68       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

kins  himself  with  the  survivors  of  the  crew  took  to 
their  boats,  dashed  through  the  enemy,  who  vainly 
tried  to  take  them,  and  struggled  out  after  the 
Minion  and  the  Judith.  It  speaks  ill  for  De  Ba9an 
that  with  so  large  a  force  at  his  command,  and  in 
such  a  position,  a  single  Englishman  escaped  to  tell 
the  story. 

Even  when  outside  Hawkins's  situation  was  still 
critical  and  might  well  be  called  desperate.  The 
Judith  was  but  fifty  tons;  the  Minion  not  above 
a  hundred.  They  were  now  crowded  up  with  men. 
They  had  little  water  on  board,  and  there  had  been 
no  time  to  refill  their  store-chests,  or  fit  themselves 
for  sea.  Happily  the  weather  was  moderate.  If 
the  wind  had  risen,  nothing  could  have  saved  them. 
They  anchored  two  miles  off  to  put  themselves  in 
some  sort  of  order.  The  Spanish  fleet  did  not  vent- 
ure to  molest  further  so  desperate  a  foe.  On  Sat- 
urday the  25th  they  set  sail,  scarcely  knowing 
whither  to  turn.  To  attempt  an  ocean  voyage  as 
they  were  would  be  certain  destruction,  yet  they 
could  not  trust  longer  to  De  Ba9an's  cowardice  or 
forbearance.  There  was  supposed  to  be  a  shelter  of 
some  kind  somewhere  on  the  east  side  of  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  where  it  was  hoped  they  might  obtain 
provisions.  They  reached  the  place  on  October  8, 
but  found  nothing.  English  sailors  have  never  been 
wanting  in  resolution.  They  knew  that  if  they  all 
remained  on  board  every  one  of  them  must  starve. 
A  hundred  volunteered  to  land  and  take  their 
chance.     The  rest  on  short  rations  might  hope  to 


Sir  John  Haiokins  and  Philip  the  Second     69 

make  their  way  home.  The  sacrifice  was  accepted. 
The  hundred  men  were  put  on  shore.  They  wan- 
dered for  a  few  days  in  the  woods,  feeding  on  roots 
and  berries,  and  shot  at  by  the  Indians.  At  length 
they  reached  a  Spanish  station,  where  they  were 
taken  and  sent  as  prisoners  to  Mexico.  There  was, 
as  I  said,  no  Holy  Office  as  yet  in  Mexico.  The  new 
Viceroy,  though  he  had  been  in  the  fight  at  San 
Juan  de  UUoa,  was  not  implacable.  They  were 
treated  at  first  with  humanity ;  they  were  fed, 
clothed,  taken  care  of,  and  then  distributed  among 
the  plantations.  Some  were  employed  as  overseers, 
some  as  mechanics.  Others,  who  understood  any 
kind  of  business,  were  allowed  to  settle  in  towns, 
make  money,  and  even  marry  and  establish  them- 
selves. Perhaps  Philip  heard  of  it,  and  was  afraid 
that  so  many  heretics  might  introduce  the  plague. 
The  quiet  time  lasted  three  years ;  at  the  end  of 
those  years  the  Inquisitors  arrived,  and  then,  as  if 
these  poor  men  had  been  the  special  object  of  that 
delightful  institution,  they  were  hunted  up,  thrown 
into  dimgeons,  examined  on  their  faith,  tortured, 
some  burnt  in  an  auto  da  fe,  some  lashed  through 
the  streets  of  Mexico  naked  on  horseback  and 
returned  to  their  prisons.  Those  who  did  not  die 
under  this  pious  treatment  were  passed  over  to  the 
Holy  Office  at  Seville,  and  were  condemned  to  the 
galleys. 

Here  I  leave  them  for  the  moment.  We  shall 
presently  hear  of  them  again  in  a  very  singular 
connection.      The   Minion   and  Judith   meanwhile 


60      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

pursued  their  melanclioly  way.  They  parted  com- 
pany. The  Judith,  being  the  better  sailer,  arrived 
first,  and  reached  Plymouth  in  December,  torn  and 
tattered.  Drake  rode  off  post  immediately  to  cany 
the  bad  news  to  London.  The  Minion's  fate  was 
worse.  She  made  her  course  through  the  Bahama 
Channel,  her  crew  dying  as  if  struck  with  a  pesti- 
lence, till  at  last  there  were  hardly  men  enough  left 
to  handle  the  sails.  They  fell  too  far  south  for 
England,  and  at  length  had  to  put  into  Vigo,  where 
their  probable  fate  would  be  a  Spanish  prison. 
Happily  they  found  other  English  vessels  in  the 
roads  there.  Fresh  hands  were  put  on  board,  and 
fresh  provisions.  With  these  supplies  Hawkins 
reached  Mount's  Bay  a  month  later  than  the  Judith^ 
in  January  1569. 

Drake  had  told  the  story,  and  aU  England  was 
ringing  with  it.  Englishmen  always  think  their 
own  countrymen  are  in  the  right.  The  Spaniards, 
already  in  evil  odour  with  the  sea-going  population, 
were  accused  of  abominable  treachery.  The  splen- 
did fight  which  Hawkins  had  made  raised  him  into  a 
national  idol,  and  though  he  had  suffered  financially, 
his  loss  was  made  up  in  reputation  and  authority. 
Every  privateer  in  the  West  was  eager  to  serve 
under  the  leadership  of  the  hero  of  San  Juan  de 
Ulloa.  He  speedily  found  himself  in  command  of 
a  large  irregular  squadron,  and  even  Cecil  recognised 
his  consequence.  His  chief  and  constant  anxiety 
was  for  the  comrades  whom  he  had  left  behind,  and 
he  talked  of  a  new  expedition  to  recover  them,  or 


Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second     61 

revenge  them  if  they  had  been  killed;  but  all 
things  had  to  wait.  They  probably  found  means 
of  communicating  with  him,  and  as  long  as  there 
was  no  Inquisition  in  Mexico,  he  may  have  learnt 
that  there  was  no  immediate  occasion  for  ac- 
tion. 

Elizabeth  put  a  brave  face  on  her  disappointment. 
She  knew  that  she  was  surrounded  with  treason,  but 
she  knew  also  that  the  boldest  course  was  the 
safest.  She  had  taken  Alva's  money,  and  was  less 
than  ever  inclined  to  restore  it.  She  had  the  best  of 
the  bargain  in  the  arrest  of  the  Spanish  and  English 
ships  and  cargoes.  Alva  would  not  encourage  Philip 
to  declare  war  with  England  till  the  Netherlands 
were  completely  reduced,  and  Philip,  with  his  leaden 
foot  (pie  de  plomo),  always  preferred  patience  and 
intrigue.  Time  and  he  and  the  Pope  were  three 
powers  which  in  the  end,  he  thought,  would  prove 
irresistible,  and  indeed  it  seemed,  after  Hawkins's 
return,  as  if  Philip  would  turn  out  to  be  right.  The 
presence  of  the  Queen  of  Scots  in  England  had  set 
in  flame  the  Catholic  nobles.  The  wages  of  Alva's 
troops  had  been  wrung  somehow  out  of  the  wretched 
Provinces,  and  his  supreme  ability  and  inexorable 
resolution  were  steadily  grinding  down  the  revolt. 
Every  port  in  Holland  and  Zealand  was  in  Alva's 
hands.  Elizabeth's  throne  was  undermined  by  the 
Kidolfi  conspiracy,  the  most  dangerous  which  she 
had  ever  had  to  encounter.  The  only  Protestant 
fighting  power  left  on  the  sea  which  could  be  en- 
tirely depended  on  was  in  the  privateer  fleet,  sail' 


62      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

ing,  most  of  them,  under  a  commission  from  the 
Prince  of  Orange. 

This  fleet  was  the  strangest  phenomenon  in 
naval  history.  It  was  half  Dutch,  half  English, 
with  a  flavour  of  Huguenot,  and  was  commanded 
by  a  Flemish  noble.  Count  de  la  Mark.  Its  head- 
quarters were  in  the  Downs  or  Dover  Roads,  where 
it  could  watch  the  narrow  seas,  and  seize  every 
Spanish  ship  that  passed  which  was  not  too  strong 
to  be  meddled  with.  The  cargoes  taken  were 
openly  sold  in  Dover  market.  If  the  Spanish 
ambassador  is  to  be  believed  in  a  complaint  which 
he  addressed  to  Cecil,  Spanish  gentlemen  taken 
prisoners  were  set  up  to  public  auction  there  for 
the  ransom  which  they  would  fetch,  and  were  dis- 
posed of  for  one  hundred  pounds  each.  If  Alva 
sent  cruisers  from  Antwerp  to  bum  them  out,  they 
retreated  under  the  guns  of  Dover  Castle.  Roving 
squadrons  of  them  flew  down  to  the  Spanish  coasts, 
pillaged  churches,  carried  off  church  plate,  and  the 
captains  drank  success  to  piracy  at  their  banquets 
out  of  chalices.  The  Spanish  merchants  at  last 
estimated  the  property  destroyed  at  three  mill- 
ion ducats,  and  they  said  that  if  their  flag  could 
no  longer  protect  them,  they  must  decline  to  make 
further  contracts  for  the  supply  of  the  Netherlands 
army. 

It  was  life  or  death  to  Elizabeth.  The  Ridolfi 
plot,  an  elaborate  and  far-reaching  conspiracy  to 
give  her  crown  to  Mary  Stuart  and  to  make  away 
with  heresy,  was  all  but  complete.     The  Pope  and 


Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second    63 

Philip  had  approved;  Alva  was  to  invade;  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk  was  to  head  an  insurrection  in  the 
Eastern  Counties.  Never  had  she  been  in  greater 
danger.  Elizabeth  was  herself  to  be  murdered. 
The  intention  was  known,  but  the  particulars  of 
the  conspiracy  had  been  kept  so  secret  that  she  had 
not  evidence  enough  to  take  measures  to  protect 
herself.  The  privateers  at  Dover  were  a  sort  of 
protection ;  they  would  at  least  make  Alva's  crossing 
more  difficult ;  but  the  most  pressing  exigency  was 
the  discovery  of  the  details  of  the  treason.  Nothing 
was  to  be  gained  by  concession ;  the  only  salvation 
was  in  daring. 

At  Antwerp  there  was  .a  certain  Doctor  Story, 
maintained  by  Alva  there  to  keep  a  watch  on 
English  heretics.  Story  had  been  a  persecutor 
under  Mary,  and  had  defended  heretic  burning  in 
Elizabeth's  first  Parliament,  He  had  refused  the 
oath  of  allegiance,  had  left  the  country,  and  had 
taken  to  treason.  Cecil  wanted  evidence,  and  this 
man  he  knew  could  give  it.  A  pretended  informer 
brought  Story  word  that  there  was  an  English 
vessel  in  the  Scheldt  which  he  would  find  worth 
examining.  Story  was  tempted  on  board.  The 
hatches  were  closed  over  him.  He  was  delivered 
two  days  after  at  the  Tower,  when  his  secrets  were 
squeezed  out  of  him  by  the  rack  and  he  was  then 
hanged. 

Something  was  learnt,  but  less  still  than  Cecil 
needed  to  take  measures  to  protect  the  Queen.  And 
now  once  more,  and  in  a  new  character,  we  are  to 


64      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

meet  John  Hawkins.  Three  years  had  passed  smce 
the  catastrophe  at  San  Juan  de  UUoa.  He  had 
learnt  to  his  sorrow  that  his  poor  companions  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Holy  Office  at  last ;  had 
been  burnt,  lashed,  starved  in  dungeons  or  worked 
in  chains  in  the  Seville  yards ;  and  his  heart,  not 
a  very  tender  one,  bled  at  the  thoughts  of  them. 
The  finest  feature  in  the  seamen  of  those  days  was 
their  devotion  to  one  another.  Hawkins  determined 
that,  one  way  or  other,  these  old  comrades  of  his 
should  be  rescued.  Entreaties  were  useless ;  force 
was  impossible.  There  might  still  be  a  chance  with 
cunning.  He  would  risk  anything,  even  the  loss  of 
his  soul,  to  save  them. 

De  Silva  had  left  England.  The  Spanish  am- 
bassador was  now  Don  Guerau  or  Gerald  de  Espes, 
and  to  him  had  fallen  the  task  of  watching  and 
directing  the  conspiracy.  Philip  was  to  give  the 
signal,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  other  Catholic 
peers  were  to  rise  and  proclaim  the  Queen  of  Scots. 
Success  would  depend  on  the  extent  of  the  dis- 
affection in  England  itself ;  and  the  ambassador's 
business  was  to  welcome  and  encourage  all 
symptoms  of  discontent.  Hawkins  knew  generally 
what  was  going  on,  and  he  saw  in  it  an  opportunity 
of  approaching  Philip  on  his  weak  side.  Having 
been  so  much  in  the  Canaries,  he  probably  spoke 
Spanish  fluently.  He  called  on  Don  Guerau, 
and  with  audacious  coolness  represented  that 
he  and  many  of  his  friends  were  dissatisfied  with 
the  Queen's  service.     He  said  he  had  found  her 


Sir  John  Haiukins  and  Philip  the  Second     65 

faithless  and  ungrateful,  and  he  and  they  would 
gladly  transfer  their  allegiance  to  the  King  of 
Spain,  if  the  King  of  Spain  would  receive  them. 
For  himself,  he  would  undertake  to  bring  over  the 
whole  privateer  fleet  of  the  West,  and  in  return  he 
asked  for  nothing  but  the  release  of  a  few  poor 
English  seamen  who  were  in  prison  at  Seville. 

Don  Guerau  was  full  of  the  belief  that  the  whole 
nation  was  ready  to  rebel.  He  eagerly  swallowed 
the  bait  which  Hawkins  threw  to  him.  He  wrote 
to  Alva,  he  wrote  to  Philip's  secretary,  Cayas, 
expatiating  on  the  importance  of  securing  such  an 
addition  to  their  party.  It  was  true,  he  admitted, 
that  Hawkins  had  been  a  pirate,  but  piracy  was  a 
common  fault  of  the  English,  and  no  wonder  when 
the  Spaniards  submitted  to  being  plundered  so 
meekly ;  the  man  who  was  offering  his  services  was 
bold,  resolute,  capable,  and  had  great  influence 
with  the  English  sailors ;  he  strongly  advised  that 
such  a  recruit  should  be  encouraged. 

Alva  would  not  listen.  Philip,  who  shuddered  at 
the  very  name  of  Hawkins,  was  incredulous.  Don 
Guerau  had  to  tell  Sir  John  that  the  King  at  pres- 
ent declined  his  offer,  but  advised  him  to  go  himself 
to  Madrid,  or  to  send  some  confidential  friend  with 
assurances  and  explanations. 

Another  figure  now  enters  on  the  scene,  a  George 
Fitzwilliam.  I  do  not  know  who  he  was,  or  why 
Hawkins  chose  him  for  his  purpose.  The  Duke  of 
Feria  was  one  of  Philip's  most  trusted  ministers. 
He  had  married  an  English  lady  who  had  been  a 


66      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Cerdury 

maid  of  honour  to  Queen  Mary.  It  is  possible  that 
Fitzwilliam  had  some  acquaintance  with  her  or  with 
her  family.  At  any  rate,  he  went  to  the  Spanish 
Court ;  he  addressed  himself  to  the  Ferias ;  he  won 
their  confidence,  and  by  their  means  was  admitted 
to  an  interview  with  Philip.  He  represented  Haw- 
kins as  a  faithful  Catholic  who  was  indignant  at  the 
progress  of  heresy  in  England,  who  was  eager  to  as- 
sist in  the  overthrow  of  Elizabeth  and  the  elevation 
of  the  Queen  of  Scots,  and  was  able  and  willing  to 
carry  along  with  him  the  great  Western  privateer 
fleet,  which  had  become  so  dreadful  to  the  Spanish 
mind.  Philip  listened  and  was  interested.  It  was 
only  natural,  he  thought,  that  heretics  should  be 
robbers  and  pirates.  If  they  could  be  recovered  to 
the  Church,  their  bad  habits  would  leave  them.  The 
English  navy  was  the  most  serious  obstacle  to  the 
intended  invasion.  Still,  Hawkins!  The  Achines 
of  his  nightmares!  It  could  not  be.  He  asked 
FitzwiUiam  if  his  friend  was  acquainted  with  the 
Queen  of  Scots  or  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  Fitzwilliam 
was  obliged  to  say  that  he  was  not.  The  credentials 
of  John  Hawkins  were  his  own  right  hand.  He 
was  making  the  King  a  magnificent  oflfer :  nothing 
less  than  a  squadron  of  the  finest  ships  in  the 
world — not  perhaps  in  the  best  condition,  he  added, 
with  cool  British  impudence,  owing  to  the  Queen's 
parsimony,  but  easily  to  be  put  in  order  again  if  the 
King  would  pay  the  seamen's  wages  and  advance 
some  money  for  repairs.  The  release  of  a  few  poor 
prisoners  was  a  small  price  to  ask  for  such  a  service. 


Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second     67 

The  King  was  still  wary,  watching  the  bait  like 
an  old  pike,  but  hesitating  to  seize  it ;  but  the  duke 
and  duchess  were  willing  to  be  themselves  securities 
for  Fitzwilliam's  faith,  and  Philip  promised  at  last 
that  if  Hawkins  would  send  him  a  letter  of  recom- 
mendation from  the  Queen  of  Scots  herself,  he 
would  then  see  what  could  be  done.  The  Ferias 
were  dangerously  enthusiastic.  They  talked  freely 
to  Fitzwilliam  of  the  Queen  of  Scots  and  her  pros- 
pects. They  trusted  him  with  letters  and  presents 
to  her  which  would  secure  his  admittance  to  her 
confidence.  Hawkins  had  sent  him  over  for  the 
single  purpose  of  cheating  Philip  into  releasing  his 
comrades  from  the  Inquisition;  and  he  had  been 
introduced  to  secrets  of  high  political  moment ;  like 
Saul,  the  son  of  Kish,  he  had  gone  to  seek  his  father's 
asses  and  he  had  found  a  kingdom.  Fitzwilliam 
hurried  home  with  his  letters  and  his  news.  Things 
were  now  serious.  Hawkins  could  act  no  further  on 
his  own  responsibility.  He  consulted  Cecil.  Cecil 
consulted  the  Queen,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the 
practice,  as  it  was  called,  should  be  carried  further. 
It  might  lead  to  the  discovery  of  the  whole  secret. 

Very  treacherous,  think  some  good  people.  Well, 
there  are  times  when  one  admires  even  treachery — 

nee  lex  est  justior  nlla 
Qnam  necis  artifices  arte  perire  saa. 

King  Philip  was  confessedly  preparing  to  encourage 
an  English  subject  in  treason  to  his  sovereign.  Was 
it  so  wrong  to  hoist  the  engineer  with  his  own  petard? 


68      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Was  it  wrong  of  Hamlet  to  finger  the  packet  of 
Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  and  rewrite  his 
uncle's  despatch?  Let  us  have  done  with  cant  in 
these  matters.  Mary  Stuart  was  at  Sheffield  Castle 
in  charge  of  Lord  Shrewsbury,  and  Fitzwilliam 
could  not  see  her  without  an  order  from  the  Crown. 
Shrewsbury,  though  loyal  to  Elizabeth,  was  notori- 
ously well  inclined  to  Mary,  and  therefore  could  not 
be  taken  into  confidence.  In  writing  to  him  Cecil 
merely  said  that  friends  of  Fitzwilliam's  were  in 
prison  in  Spain ;  that  if  the  Queen  of  Scots  would 
intercede  for  them,  Philip  might  be  induced  to  let 
them  go.  He  might  therefore  allow  Fitzwilliam  to 
have  a  private  audience  with  that  Queen. 

Thus  armed,  Fitzwilliam  went  down  to  Sheffield. 
He  was  introduced.  He  began  with  presenting 
Mary  with  the  letters  and  remembrances  from  the 
Ferias,  which  at  once  opened  her  heart.  It  was 
impossible  for  her  to  suspect  a  friend  of  the  duke 
and  duchess.  She  was  delighted  at  receiving  a 
visitor  from  the  Court  of  Spain.  She  was  prudent 
enough  to  avoid  dangerous  confidences,  but  she  said 
she  was  always  pleased  when  she  could  do  a  service 
to  Englishmen,  and  with  all  her  heart  would  inter- 
cede for  the  prisoners.  She  wrote  to  Philip,  she 
wrote  to  the  duke  and  duchess,  and  gave  the  letters 
to  Fitzwilliam  to  deliver.  He  took  them  to  London, 
called  on  Don  Gerald,  and  told  him  of  his  success. 
Don  Gerald  also  wrote  to  his  master,  wrote  un- 
guardedly, and  also  trusted  Fitzwilliam  with  the 
despatch. 


SiT  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second     69 

The  various  packets  were  taken  first  to  Cecil,  and 
were  next  shown  to  the  Queen.  They  were  then  re- 
turned to  Fitzwilliam,  who  once  more  went  off  with 
them  to  Madrid.  If  the  letters  produced  the  ex- 
pected effect,  Cecil  calmly  observed  that  divers  com- 
modities would  ensue.  English  sailors  would  be 
released  from  the  Inquisition  and  the  galleys.  The 
enemy's  intentions  would  be  discovered.  If  the 
King  of  Spain  could  be  induced  to  do  as  Fitzwilliam 
had  suggested,  and  assist  in  the  repairs  of  the  ships 
at  Plymouth,  credit  would  be  obtained  for  a  sum  of 
money  which  could  be  employed  to  his  own  detri- 
ment. If  Alva  attempted  the  projected  invasion, 
Hawkins  might  take  the  ships  as  if  to  escort  him, 
and  then  do  some  notable  exploit  in  mid-Channel. 

You  will  observe  the  downright  directness  of 
Cecil,  Hawkins,  and  the  other  parties  in  the  matter. 
There  is  no  wrapping  up  their  intentions  in  fine 
phrases,  no  parade  of  justification.  They  went 
straight  to  their  point.  It  was  very  characteristic 
of  EngHshmen  in  those  stem,  dangerous  times. 
They  looked  facts  in  the  face,  and  did  what  fact 
required.  All  really  happened  exactly  as  I  have 
described  it :  the  story  is  told  in  letters  and  docu- 
ments of  the  authenticity  of  which  there  is  not  the 
smallest  doubt. 

We  will  follow  Fitzwilliam.  He  arrived  at  the 
Spanish  Court  at  the  moment  when  Eidolfi  had 
brought  from  Rome  the  Pope's  blessing  on  the  con- 
spiracy. The  final  touches  were  being  added  by 
the  Spanish  Council  of  State.     All  was  hope ;   all 


70       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

was  the  credulity  of  enthusiasm!  Mary  Stuart's 
letter  satisfied  Philip.  The  prisoners  were  dis- 
missed, each  with  ten  dollars  in  his  pocket.  An 
agreement  was  formally  drawn  and  signed  in  the 
Escurial,  in  which  Philip  gave  Hawkins  a  pardon 
for  his  misdemeanours  in  the  West  Indies,  a  patent 
for  a  Spanish  peerage,  and  a  letter  of  credit  for 
40,000?.  to  put  the  privateers  in  a  condition  to  do 
service,  and  the  money  was  actually  paid  by  Philip's 
London  agent.  Admitted  as  he  now  was  to  full 
confidence,  Fitzwilliam  le£Mnt  all  particulars  of  the 
great  plot.  The  story  reads  like  a  chapter  from 
Monde  Crista,  and  yet  it  is  literally  true. 

It  ends  with  a  letter  which  I  will  read  to  you, 
from  Hawkins  to  Cecil : — 

*  My  very  good  Lord, — It  may  please  your  Hon- 
our to  be  advertised  that  Fitzwilliam  is  returned 
from  Spain,  where  his  message  was  acceptably  re- 
ceived, both  by  the  King  himself,  the  Duke  of 
Feria,  and  others  of  the  Privy  Council.  His 
despatch  and  answer  were  with  great  expedition 
and  great  countenance  and  favour  of  the  King. 
The  Articles  are  sent  to  the  Ambassador  with 
orders  also  for  the  money  to  be  paid  to  me  by  him, 
for  the  enterprise  to  proceed  with  all  diligence. 
The  pretence  is  that  my  powers  should  join  with 
the  Duke  of  Alva's  powers,  which  he  doth  secretly 
provide  in  Flanders,  as  well  as  with  powers  which 
will  come  with  the  Duke  of  Medina  Cell  out  of 
Spain,  and  to  invade  this  realm  and  set  up  the 


Sir  John  Hawkins  and  Philip  the  Second     71 

Queen  of  Scots.  They  have  practised  with  us  for 
the  burning  of  Her  Majesty's  ships.  Therefore 
there  should  be  some  good  care  had  of  them,  but 
not  as  it  may  appear  that  anything  is  discovered. 
The  King  has  sent  a  ruby  of  good  price  to  the 
Queen  of  Scots,  with  letters  also  which  in  my  judg- 
ment were  good  to  be  delivered.  The  letters  be  of 
no  importance,  but  his  message  by  word  is  to  com- 
fort her,  and  say  that  he  hath  now  none  other  care 
but  to  place  her  in  her  own.  It  were  good  also 
that  Fitzwilliam  may  have  access  to  the  Queen  of 
Scots  to  render  thanks  for  the  delivery  of  the 
prisoners  who  are  now  at  liberty.  It  will  be  a  very 
good  colour  for  your  Lordship  to  confer  with  him 
more  largely. 

*I  have  sent  your  Lordship  the  copy  of  my  par- 
don from  the  King  of  Spain,  in  the  order  and  man- 
ner I  have  it,  with  my  great  titles  and  honours  from 
the  King,  from  which  God  deliver  me.  Their  prac- 
tices be  very  mischievous,  and  they  be  never  idle ; 
but  God,  I  hope,  will  confound  them  and  turn  their 
devices  on  their  own  necks. 

*  Your  Lordship's  most  faithfully  to  my  power, 

*  John  Hawkins.' 

A  few  more  words  wiU  conclude  this  curious  epi- 
sode. With  the  clue  obtained  by  Fitzwilliam,  and 
confessions  twisted  out  of  Story  and  other  unwilling 
witnesses,  the  Ridolfi  conspiracy  was  unravelled  be- 
fore it  broke  into  act.  Norfolk  lost  his  head.  The 
inferior  miscreants  were  hanged.    The  Queen  of 


72       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Scots  had  a  narrow  escape,  and  the  Parliament 
accentuated  the  Protestant  character  of  the  Church 
of  England  by  embodying  the  Thirty-nine  Articles 
in  a  statute.  Alva,  who  distrusted  Ridolfi  from  the 
first  and  disliked  encouraging  rebellion,  refused  to 
interest  himself  further  in  Anglo-Catholic  plots. 
Elizabeth  and  Cecil  could  now  breathe  more  freely, 
and  read  Philip  a  lesson  on  the  danger  of  plotting 
against  the  lives  of  sovereigns. 

So  long  as  England  and  Spain  were  nominally  at 
peace,  the  presence  of  De  la  Mark  and  his  privateers 
in  the  Downs  was  at  least  indecent.  A  committee 
of  merchants  at  Bruges  represented  that  their  losses 
by  it  amounted  (as  I  said)  to  three  million  ducats. 
Elizabeth,  being  now  in  comparative  safety,  aflfected 
to  listen  to  remonstrances,  and  orders  were  sent 
down  to  De  la  Mark  that  he  must  prepare  to  leave. 
It  is  likely  that  both  the  Queen  and  he  understood 
each  other,  and  that  De  la  Mark  quite  well  knew 
where  he  was  to  go,  and  what  he  was  to  do. 

Alva  now  held  every  fortress  in  the  Low  Countries, 
whether  inland  or  on  the  coast.  The  people  were 
crushed.  The  duke's  great  statue  stood  in  the 
square  at  Antwerp  as  a  symbol  of  the  annihilation 
of  the  ancient  liberties  of  the  Provinces.  By  sea 
alone  the  Prince  of  Orange  still  continued  the  un- 
equal struggle ;  but  if  he  was  to  maintain  himself  as 
a  sea  power  anywhere,  he  required  a  harbour  of  his 
own  in  his  own  country.  Dover  and  the  Thames 
had  served  for  a  time  as  a  base  of  operations,  but  it 
could  not  last,  and  without  a  footing  in  Holland 


Sir  John  Haivkins  and  Philip  the  Second     73 

itself  eventual  success  was  impossible.  All  the  Prot- 
estant world  was  interested  in  his  fate,  and  De  la 
Mark,  with  his  miscellaneous  gathering  of  Dutch, 
English,  and  Huguenot  rovers,  were  ready  for  any 
desperate  exploit. 

The  order  was  to  leave  Dover  immediately,  but  it 
was  not  construed  strictly.  He  lingered  in  the 
Downs  for  six  weeks.  At  length,  one  morning  at 
the  end  of  March  1572,  a  Spanish  convoy  known  to 
be  richly  loaded  appeared  in  the  Straits.  De  la 
Mark  lifted  anchor,  darted  out  on  it,  seized  two  of 
the  largest  hulks,  rifled  them,  flung  their  crews 
overboard,  and  chased  the  rest  up  Channel.  A  day 
or  two  after  he  suddenly  showed  himself  off  Brille, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Meuse.  A  boat  was  sent  on 
shore  with  a  note  to  the  governor,  demanding  the 
instant  surrender  of  the  town  to  the  admiral  of  the 
Prince  of  Orange.  The  inhabitants  rose  in  enthu- 
siasm ;  the  garrison  was  small,  and  the  governor  was 
obliged  to  comply.  De  la  Mark  took  possession. 
A  few  priests  and  monks  attempted  resistance,  but 
were  put  down  without  difficulty,  and  the  leaders 
killed.  The  churches  were  cleared  of  their  idols, 
and  the  mass  replaced  by  the  Calvinistic  service. 
Cannon  and  stores,  furnished  from  London,  were 
landed,  and  Brille  was  made  impregnable  before 
Alva  had  realised  what  had  happened  to  him.  He 
is  said  to  have  torn  his  beard  for  anger.  Flushing 
followed  suit.  In  a  week  or  two  all  the  strongest 
places  on  the  coast  had  revolted,  and  the  pirate  fleet 
had  laid  the  foundation  of  the  great  Dutch  Bepub- 


74      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

lie,  which  at  England's  side  was  to  strike  out  of 
Philip's  hand  the  sceptre  of  the  seas,  and  to  save 
the  Protestant  religion. 

We  may  think  as  we  please  of  these  Beggars  of 
the  Ocean,  these  Norse  corsairs  come  to  life  again 
with  the  flavour  of  Genevan  theology  in  them  ;  but 
for  daring,  for  ingenuity,  for  obstinate  determination 
to  be  spiritually  free  or  to  die  for  it,  the  like  of  the 
Protestant  privateers  of  the  sixteenth  century  has 
been  rarely  met  with  in  this  world. 

England  rang  with  joy  when  the  news  came  that 
BriUewas  taken.  Church  bells  pealed,  and  bonfires 
blazed.  Money  poured  across  in  streams.  Exiled 
families  went  back  to  their  homes — which  were  to 
be  their  homes  once  more — and  the  Zealanders  and 
Hollanders,  entrenched  among  their  ditches,  pre- 
pared for  an  amphibious  conflict  with  the  greatest 
power  then  upon  the  earth. 


LECTUKE  IV 

dbake's  voyage  round  the  world 

f  SUPPOSE  some  persons  present  have  heard  the 
name  of  Lope  de  Vega,  the  Spanish  poet  of  Philip 
II. 's  time.  Very  few  of  you  probably  know  more  of 
him  than  his  name,  and  yet  he  ought  to  have  some 
interest  for  us,  as  he  was  one  of  the  many  enthu- 
siastic young  Spaniards  who  sailed  in  the  Great 
Armada.  He  had  been  disappointed  in  some  love 
affair.  He  was  an  earnest  Catholic.  He  wanted 
distraction,  and  it  is  needless  to  say  that  he  found 
distraction  enough  in  the  English  Channel  to  put 
his  love  troubles  out  of  his  mind.  His  adventures 
brought  before  him  with  some  vividness  the  charac- 
ter of  the  nation  with  which  his  own  country  was 
then  in  the  death-grapple,  especially  the  character 
of  the  great  English  seaman  to  whom  the  Spaniards 
universally  attributed  their  defeat.  Lope  studied 
the  exploits  of  Francis  Drake  from  his  first  appear- 
ance to  his  end,  and  he  celebrated  those  exploits,  as 
England  herself  has  never  yet  thought  it  worth  her 
while  to  do,  by  making  him  the  hero  of  an  epic 
poem.  There  are  heroes  and  heroes.  Lope  de 
Vega's  epic  is  called  *  The  Dragontea.'  Drake  him- 
self is  the  dragon,  the  ancient  serpent  of  the  Apoc- 


76       English  Seamen  in  the  Siodeerdh  Century 

alypse.  We  English  have  been  contented  to  allow 
Drake  a  certain  qualified  praise.  We  admit  that  he 
was  a  bold,  dexterous  sailor,  that  he  did  his  country 
good  service  at  the  Invasion.  We  allow  that  he 
was  a  famous  navigator,  and  sailed  round  the  world, 
which  no  one  else  had  done  before  him.  But — there 
is  always  a  but — of  course  he  was  a  robber  and  a 
corsair,  and  the  only  excuse  for  him  is  that  he  was 
no  worse  than  most  of  his  contemporaries.  To 
Lope  de  Yega  he  was  a  great  deal  worse.  He  was 
Satan  himself,  the  incarnation  of  the  Genius  of 
Evil,  the  arch-enemy  of  the  Church  of  God. 

It  is  worth  while  to  look  more  particularly  at  the 
figure  of  a  man  who  appeared  to  the  Spaniards  in 
such  terrible  proportions.  I,  for  my  part,  believe  a 
time  will  come  when  we  shall  see  better  than  we  see 
now  what  the  Reformation  was,  and  what  we  owe  to 
it,  and  these  sea-captains  of  Elizabeth  will  then 
form  the  subject  of  a  great  English  national  epic  as 
grand  as  the  'Odyssey.' 

In  my  own  poor  way  meanwhile  I  shall  try  in 
these  lectures  to  draw  you  a  sketch  of  Drake  and 
his  doings  as  they  appear  to  myself.  To-day  I  can 
but  give  you  a  part  of  the  rich  and  varied  story, 
but  if  all  goes  well  I  hope  I  may  be  able  to  continue 
it  at  a  future  time. 

I  have  not  yet  done  with  Sir  John  Hawkins.  We 
shall  hear  of  him  again.  He  became  the  manager 
of  Elizabeth's  dockyards.  He  it  was  who  turned 
out  the  ships  that  fought  Philip's  fleet  in  the  Chan- 
nel in  such  condition  that  not  a  hull  leaked,  not  a 


Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World  77 

spar  was  sprung,  not  a  rope  parted  at  an  unseason- 
able moment,  and  this  at  a  minimum  of  cost.  He 
served  himself  in  the  squadron  which  he  had 
equipped.  He  was  one  of  the  small  group  of  ad- 
mirals who  met  that  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  cabin 
of  the  ark  Raleigh  and  sent  the  fireships  down  to 
stir  Medina  Sidonia  out  of  his  anchorage  at  Calais. 
He  was  a  child  of  the  sea,  and  at  sea  he  died, 
sinking  at  last  into  his  mother's  arms.  But  of  this 
hereafter.  I  must  speak  now  of  his  still  more  illus- 
trious kinsman,  Francis  Drake, 

I  told  you  the  other  day  generally  who  Drake 
was  and  where  he  came  from ;  how  he  went  to  sea 
as  a  boy,  found  favour  with  his  master,  became 
early  an  owner  of  his  own  ship,  sticking  steadily  to 
trade.  You  hear  nothing  of  him  in  connection  with 
the  Channel  pirates.  It  was  not  till  he  was  five- 
and-twenty  that  he  was  tempted  by  Hawkins  into 
the  negro-catching  business,  and  of  this  one  experi- 
ment was  enough.     He  never  tried  it  again. 

The  portraits  of  him  vary  very  much,  as  indeed  it 
is  natural  that  they  should,  for  most  of  those  which 
pass  for  Drake  were  not  meant  for  Drake  at  all.  It 
is  the  fashion  in  this  country,  and  a  very  bad  fash- 
ion, when  we  find  a  remarkable  portrait  with  no 
name  authoritatively  attached  to  it,  to  christen  it  at 
random  after  some  eminent  man,  and  there  it  re- 
mains to  perplex  or  mislead. 

The  best  likeness  of  Drake  that  I  know  is  an 
engraving  in  Sir  William  Stirling-Maxwell's  collec- 
tion of  sixteenth-century  notabilities,  representing 


78       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

him,  as  a  scroll  says  at  the  foot  of  the  plate,  at  the 
age  of  forty-three.  The  face  is  round,  the  forehead 
broad  and  full,  with  the  short  brown  hair  curling 
crisply  on  either  side.  The  eyebrows  are  highly 
arched,  the  eyes  firm,  clear,  and  open.  I  cannot 
undertake  for  the  colour,  but  I  should  judge  they 
would  be  dark  grey,  like  an  eagle's.  The  nose  is 
short  and  thick,  the  mouth  and  chin  hid  by  a  heavy 
moustache  on  the  upper  lip,  and  a  close-clipped 
beard  well  spread  over  chin  and  cheek.  The  ex- 
pression is  good-humoured,  but  absolutely  inflex- 
ible, not  a  weak  line  to  be  seen.  He  was  of  middle 
height,  powerfully  built,  perhaps  too  powerfully  for 
grace,  unless  the  quilted  doublet  in  which  the  artist 
has  dressed  him  exaggerates  his  breadth. 

I  have  seen  another  portrait  of  him,  with  pre- 
tensions to  authenticity,  in  which  he  appesirs  with  a 
slighter  figure,  eyes  dark,  fuU,  thoughtful,  and 
stern,  a  sailor's  cord  about  his  neck  with  a  whistle 
attached  to  it,  and  a  ring  into  which  a  thumb  is 
carelessly  thrust,  the  weight  of  the  arms  resting  on 
it,  as  if  in  a  characteristic  attitude.  Evidently 
this  is  a  carefully  drawn  likeness  of  some  remark- 
able seaman  of  the  time.  I  should  like  to  believe  it 
to  be  Drake,  but  I  can  feel  no  cei-tainty  about  it. 

We  left  him  returned  home  in  the  Judith  from 
San  Juan  de  Ulloa,  a  ruined  man.  He  had  never 
injured  the  Spaniards.  He  had  gone  out  with  his 
cousin  merely  to  trade,  and  he  had  met  with  a 
hearty  reception  from  the  settlers  wherever  he  had 
been.     A  Spanish  admiral  had  treacherously  set 


Drake's  Voyage  Bound  the  World  79 

upon  him  and  his  kinsmen,  destroyed  half  their 
vessels,  and  robbed  them  of  all  that  they  had. 
They  had  left  a  hundred  of  their  comrades  behind 
them,  for  whose  fate  they  might  fear  the  worst. 
Drake  thenceforth  considered  Spanish  property  as 
fair  game  till  he  had  made  up  his  own  losses.  He 
waited  quietly  for  four  years  till  he  had  re-estab- 
lished himself,  and  then  prepared  to  try  fortune 
again  in  a  more  daring  form. 

The  ill-luck  at  San  Juan  de  Ulloa  had  risen 
from  loose  tongues.  There  had  been  too  much 
talk  about  it.  Too  many  parties  had  been  con- 
cerned. The  Spanish  Government  had  notice  and 
were  prepared.  Drake  determined  to  act  for  himself, 
have  no  partners,  and  keep  his  own  secret.  He 
found  friends  to  trust  him  with  money  without 
asking  for  explanations.  The  Plymouth  sailors 
were  eager  to  take  their  chance  with  him.  His 
force  was  absurdly  small :  a  sloop  or  brigantine 
of  a  hundred  tons,  which  he  called  the  Dragon 
(perhaps,  like  Lope  de  Vega,  playing  on  his  own 
name),  and  two  small  pinnaces.  With  these  he 
left  Plymouth  in  the  fall  of  the  summer  of  1572. 
He  had  ascertained  that  Philip's  gold  and  silver 
from  the  Peruvian  mines  was  landed  at  Panama, 
carried  across  the  isthmus  on  mules'  backs  on  th<» 
line  of  M.  de  Lesseps'  canal,  and  re-shipped  at 
Nombre  de  Dios,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Chagre  Kiver. 

He  told  no  one  where  he  was  going.  He  was  no 
more  communicative  than  necessary  after  his  re- 
turn, and  the  results,  rather  than  the  particulars,  of 


80      English  Seamen  in  tlie  Sixteenth  Century 

his  adventure  are  all  that  can  be  certainly  known. 
Discretion  told  him  to  keep  his  counsel,  and  he 
kept  it. 

The  Drake  family  published  an  account  of  this 
voyage  in  the  middle  of  the  next  century,  but  obvi- 
ously mythical,  in  parts  demonstrably  false,  and 
nowhere  to  be  depended  on.  It  can  be  made  out, 
however,  that  he  did  go  to  Nombre  de  Dios,  that  he 
found  his  way  into  the  town,  and  saw  stores  of 
bullion  there  which  he  would  have  liked  to  carry  off 
but  could  not.  A  romantic  story  of  a  fight  in  the 
town  I  disbelieve,  first  because  his  numbers  were  so 
small  that  to  try  force  would  have  been  absurd,  and 
next  because  if  there  had  been  really  anything  like 
a  battle  an  alarm  would  have  been  raised  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  it  is  evident  that  no  alarm 
was  given.  In  the  woods  were  parties  of  runaway 
slaves,  who  were  called  Cimarons.  It  was  to  these 
that  Drake  addressed  himself,  and  they  volunteered 
to  guide  him  where  he  could  surprise  the  treasure 
convoy  on  the  way  from  Panama.  His  move- 
ments were  silent  and  rapid.  One  interesting  inci- 
dent is  mentioned  which  is  authentic.  The  Cima- 
rons took  him  through  the  forest  to  the  watershed 
from  which  the  streams  flow  to  both  oceans.  Noth- 
ing could  be  seen  through  the  jungle  of  under- 
growth ;  but  Drake  climbed  a  tall  tree,  saw  from  the 
top  of  it  the  Pacific  glittering  below  him,  and  made 
a  vow  that  one  day  he  would  himself  sail  a  ship  in 
those  waters. 

For  the  present   he    had   immediate   work    on 


Brakes  Voyage  Bound  the  World  81 

hand.  His  guides  kept  their  word.  They  led  him 
to  the  track  from  Panama,  and  he  had  not  long  to 
wait  before  the  tinkling  was  heard  of  the  mule  bells 
as  they  were  coming  up  the  pass.  There  was  no 
suspicion  of  danger,  not  the  faintest.  The  mule 
train  had  but  its  ordinary  guard,  who  fled  at  the 
first  surprise.  The  immense  booty  fell  aU  into 
Drake's  hands — gold,  jewels,  silver  bars — and  got 
with  much  ease,  as  Prince  Hal  said  at  Gadshill. 
The  silver  they  buried,  as  too  heavy  for  transport. 
The  gold,  pearls,  rubies,  emeralds,  and  diamonds 
they  carried  down  straight  to  their  ship.  The 
voyage  home  went  prosperously.  The  spoils  were 
shared  among  the  adventurers,  and  they  had  no 
reason  to  complain.  They  were  wise  enough  to 
hold  their  tongues,  and  Drake  was  in  a  condition 
to  look  about  him  and  prepare  for  bigger  enter- 
prises. 

Rumours  got  abroad,  spite  of  reticence.  Imagi- 
nation was  high  in  flight  just  then ;  rash  amateurs 
thought  they  could  make  their  fortunes  in  the  same 
way,  and  tried  it,  to  their  sorrow.  A  sort  of  infla- 
tion can  be  traced  in  English  sailors'  minds  as 
their  work  expanded.  Even  Hawkins — the  clear, 
practical  Hawkins — was  infected.  This  was  not  in 
Drake's  line.  He  kept  to  prose  and  fact.  He 
studied  the  globe.  He  examined  aU  the  charts  that 
he  could  get.  He  became  known  to  the  Privy 
Cotmcil  and  the  Queen,  and  prepared  for  an  enter- 
prise which  would  make  his  name  and  frighten 
Philip  in  earnest. 
6 


82       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

The  ships  which  the  Spaniards  used  on  the 
Pacific  were  usually  built  on  the  spot.  But  Ma- 
gellan was  known  to  have  gone  by  the  Horn,  and 
where  a  Portuguese  could  go  an  Englishman  could 
go.  Drake  proposed  to  try.  There  was  a  party  in 
Elizabeth's  Council  against  these  adventures,  and 
in  favour  of  peace  with  Spain ;  but  Elizabeth  herself 
was  always  for  enterprises  of  pith  and  moment.  She 
was  willing  to  help,  and  others  of  her  Council  were 
willing  too,  provided  their  names  were  not  to  ap- 
pear. The  responsibihty  was  to  be  Drake's  own. 
Again  the  vessels  in  which  he  was  preparing  to 
tempt  fortune  seem  preposterously  small.  The 
Pelican^  or  Golden  Hinde,  which  belonged  to  Drake 
himself,  was  called  but  120  tons,  at  best  no  larger 
than  a  modern  racing  yawl,  though  perhaps  no 
racing  yawl  ever  left  White's  yard  better  found  for 
the  work  which  she  had  to  do.  The  next,  the 
Elizcbbeth,  of  London,  was  said  to  be  eighty  tons ; 
a  small  pinnace  of  twelve  tons,  in  which  we  should 
hardly  risk  a  summer  cruise  round  the  Land's  End, 
with  two  sloops  or  frigates  of  fifty  and  thirty  tons, 
made  the  rest.  The  Elizabeth  was  commanded  by 
Captain  Winter,  a  Queen's  officer,  and  perhaps  a 
son  of  the  old  admiral. 

We  may  credit  Drake  with  knowing  what  he  was 
about.  He  and  his  comrades  were  carrying  their 
lives  in  their  hands.  If  they  were  taken  they  would 
be  inevitably  hanged.  Their  safety  depended  on 
speed  of  sailing,  and  specially  on  the  power  of 
working  fast  to  windward,  which  the  heavy  square- 


Drake's  Voyage  Bound  the  World  83 

rigged  ships  could  not  do.  The  crews  all  told  were 
160  men  and  boys.  Drake  had  his  brother  John 
with  him.  Among  his  officers  were  the  chaplain, 
Mr.  Fletcher,  another  minister  of  some  kind  who 
spoke  Spanish,  and  in  one  of  the  sloops  a  mysterious 
Mr.  Doughty.  Who  Mr.  Doughty  was,  and  why  he 
was  sent  out,  is  uncertain.  When  an  expedition  of 
consequence  was  on  hand,  the  Spanish  party  in  the 
Cabinet  usually  attached  to  it  some  second  in  com- 
niand  whose  business  was  to  defeat  the  object. 
When  Drake  went  to  Cadiz  in  after  years  to  singe 
King  Philip's  beard,  he  had  a  colleague  sent  with 
him  whom  he  had  to  lock  into  his  cabin  before  he 
could  get  to  his  work.  So  far  as  I  can  make  out, 
Mr.  Doughty  had  a  similar  commission.  On  this 
occasion  secrecy  was  impossible.  It  was  generally 
known  that  Drake  was  going  to  the  Pacific  through 
Magellan  Straits,  to  act  afterwards  on  his  own  judg- 
ment. The  Spanish  ambassador,  now  Don  Bernar- 
dino de  Mendoza,  in  informing  Philip  of  what  was 
intended,  advised  him  to  send  out  orders  for  the  in- 
stant sinking  of  every  English  ship,  and  the  execu- 
tion of  every  English  sailor,  that  appeared  on  either 
side  the  isthmus  in  West  Indiaji  waters.  The  or- 
ders were  despatched,  but  so  impossible  it  seemed 
that  an  English  pirate  could  reach  the  Pacific,  that 
the  attention  was  confined  to  the  Caribbean  Sea,  and 
not  a  hint  of  alarm  was  sent  across  to  the  other 
side. 

On  November  15,  1577,  the  Pelican  and  her  con- 
sort sailed  out  of  Plymouth  Sound.     The  elements 


84      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

frowned  on  their  start.  On  the  second  day  they 
were  caught  in  a  winter  gale.  The  Pelican  sprung 
her  mainmast,  and  they  put  back  to  refit  and  repair. 
But  Drake  defied  auguries.  Before  the  middle  of 
December  all  was  again  in  order.  The  weather 
mended,  and  with  a  fair  wind  and  smooth  water 
they  made  a  fast  run  across  the  Bay  of  Biscay  and 
down  the  coast  to  the  Cape  de  Verde  Islands. 
There,  taking  up  the  north-east  trades,  they  struck 
across  the  Atlantic,  crossed  the  line,  and  made  the 
South  American  continent  in  latitude  33°  South. 
They  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Plate  River,  finding 
to  their  astonishment  fresh  water  at  the  ship's  side 
in  fifty-four  fathoms.  All  seemed  so  far  going  well, 
when  one  morning  Mr.  Doughty's  sloop  was  missing, 
and  he  along  with  her.  Drake,  it  seemed,  had  al- 
ready reason  to  distrust  Doughty,  and  guessed  the 
direction  in  which  he  had  gone.  The  Marigold  was 
sent  in  pursuit,  and  he  was  overtaken  and  brought 
back.  To  prevent  a  repetition  of  such  a  perform- 
ance, Drake  took  the  sloop's  stores  out  of  her,  burnt 
her,  distributed  the  crew  through  the  other  vessels, 
and  took  Mr.  Doughty  under  his  own  charge.  On 
June  20  they  reached  Port  St.  Julian,  on  the  coast 
of  Patagonia.  They  had  been  long  on  the  way,  and 
the  southern  winter  had  come  round,  and  they  had 
to  delay  further  to  make  more  particular  inquiry  into 
Doughty's  desertion.  An  ominous  and  strange  spec- 
tacle met  their  eyes  as  they  entered  the  harbour.  In 
that  utterly  desolate  spot  a  skeleton  was  hanging  on 
a  gallows,  the  bones  picked  clean  by  the  vultures. 


Drake's  Voyage  Bound  the  World  85 

It  was  one  of  Magellan's  crew  who  had  been  exe- 
cuted there  for  mutiny  fifty  years  before.  The  same 
fate  was  to  befall  the  unhappy  Englishman  who  had 
been  guilty  of  the  same  fault.  Without  the  strictest 
discipline  it  was  impossible  for  the  enterprise  to  suc- 
ceed, and  Doughty  had  been  guilty  of  worse  than 
disobedience.  We  are  told  briefly  that  his  conduct 
was  found  tending  to  contention,  and  threatening 
the  success  of  the  voyage.  Part  he  was  said  to  have 
confessed ;  part  was  proved  against  him — one  knows 
not  what.  A  court  was  formed  out  of  the  crew. 
He  was  tried,  as  near  as  circumstances  allowed,  ac- 
cording to  English  usage.  He  was  found  guilty, 
and  was  sentenced  to  die.  He  made  no  complaint, 
or  none  of  which  a  record  is  preserved.  He  asked 
for  the  Sacrament,  which  was  of  course  allowed,  and 
Drake  himself  communicated  with  him.  They  then 
kissed  each  other,  and  the  unlucky  wretch  took  leave 
of  his  comrades,  laid  his  head  on  the  block,  and  so 
ended.  His  offence  can  be  only  guessed ;  but  the 
suspicious  curiosity  about  his  fate  which  was  shown 
afterwards  by  Mendoza  makes  it  likely  that  he 
was  in  Spanish  pay.  The  ambassador  cross-ques- 
tioned Captain  Winter  very  particularly  about  him, 
and  we  learn  one  remarkable  fact  from  Mendoza's 
letters  not  mentioned  by  any  English  writer,  that 
Drake  was  himself  the  executioner,  choosing  to  bear 
the  entire  responsibility. 

'This  done,'  writes  an  eyewitness,  'the  general 
made  divers  speeches  to  the  whole  company,  per- 
suading us  to  unity,  obedience,  and  regard  of  our 


86       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

voyage,  and  for  the  better  confirmation  thereof 
willed  every  man  the  Sunday  following  to  prepare 
himself  to  receive  the  Communion  as  Christian 
brothers  and  friends  ought  to  do,  which  was  done 
in  very  reverend  sort ;  and  so  with  good  content- 
ment every  man  went  about  his  business.' 

You  must  take  this  last  incident  into  your  con- 
ception of  Drake's  character,  think  of  it  how  you 
please. 

It  was  now  midwinter,  the  stormiest  season  of  the 
year,  and  they  remained  for  six  weeks  in  Port  St. 
Julian.  They  burnt  the  twelve-ton  pinnace,  as  too 
small  for  the  work  they  had  now  before  them,  and 
there  remained  only  the  Pelican,  the  Elizabeth,  and 
the  Marigold.  In  cold  wild  weather  they  weighed 
at  last,  and  on  August  20  made  the  opening  of  Ma- 
gellan's Straits.  The  passage  is  seventy  miles  long, 
tortuous  and  dangerous.  They  had  no  charts.  The 
ships'  boats  led,  taking  soundings  as  they  advanced. 
Icy  mountains  overhung  them  on  either  side  ;  heavy 
snow  fell  below.  They  brought  up  occasionally  at 
an  island  to  rest  the  men,  and  let  them  kill  a  few 
seals  and  penguins  to  give  them  fresh  food.  Every- 
thing they  saw  was  new,  wild,  and  wonderful. 

Having  to  feel  their  way,  they  were  three  weeks 
in  getting  through.  They  had  counted  on  reaching 
the  Pacific  that  the  worst  of  their  work  was  over, 
and  that  they  could  run  north  at  once  into  warmer 
and  calmer  latitudes.  The  peaceful  ocean,  when 
they  entered  it,  proved  the  stormiest  they  had  ever 
sailed  on.     A  fierce  westerly  gale  drove  them  600 


Drake^s  Voyage  Bound  the  World  87 

miles  to  tlie  south-east  outside  the  Horn.  It  had 
been  supposed,  hitherto,  that  Tierra  del  Fuego  was 
solid  land  to  the  South  Pole,  and  that  the  Straits 
were  the  only  communication  between  the  Atlantic 
and  the  Pacific.  They  now  learnt  the  true  shape 
and  character  of  the  Western  Continent.  In  the 
latitude  of  Cape  Horn  a  westerly  gale  blows  for 
ever  round  the  globe;  the  waves  the  highest  any- 
where known.  The  Marigold  went  down  in  the 
tremendous  encounter.  Captain  Winter,  in  the 
Elizabeth,  made  his  way  back  into  Magellan's  Straits. 
There  he  lay  for  three  weeks,  lighting  fires  nightly 
to  show  Drake  where  he  was,  but  no  Drake  appeared. 
They  had  agreed,  if  separated,  to  meet  on  the  coast 
in  the  latitude  of  Valparaiso;  but  Winter  was 
chicken-hearted,  or  else  traitorous  like  Doughty,  and 
sore,  we  are  told,  *  against  the  mariners'  will,'  when 
the  three  weeks  were  out,  he  sailed  away  for  Eng- 
land, where  he  reported  that  all  the  ships  were  lost 
but  the  Pelican,  and  that  the  Pelican  was  probably 
lost  too. 

Drake  had  believed  better  of  Winter,  and  had 
not  expected  to  be  so  deserted.  He  had  himself 
taken  refuge  among  the  islands  which  form  the 
Cape,  waiting  for  the  spring  and  milder  weather. 
He  used  the  time  in  making  surveys,  and  observing 
the  habits  of  the  native  Patagonians,  whom  he 
found  a  tough  race,  going  naked  amidst  ice  and 
snow.  The  days  lengthened,  and  the  sea  smoothed 
at  last.  He  then  sailed  for  Valparaiso,  hoping  to 
meet  Winter  there,  as  he  had  arranged.     At  Val- 


88      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Centv/ry 

paraiso  there  was  no  Winter,  but  there  was  in  the 
port  instead  a  great  galleon  just  come  in  from  Peru. 
The  galleon's  crew  took  him  for  a  Spaniard,  hoisted 
their  colours,  and  beat  their  drums.  The  Pelican 
shot  alongside.  The  English  sailors  in  high  spirits 
leapt  on  board.  A  Plymouth  lad  who  could  speak 
Spanish  knocked  down  the  first  man  he  met  with 
an  *  Abajo,  perro ! '  *  Down,  you  dog,  down  ! '  No 
life  was  taken ;  Drake  never  hurt  man  if  he  could 
help  it.  The  crew  crossed  themselves,  jumped 
overboard,  and  swam  ashore.  The  prize  was  ex- 
amined. Four  hundred  pounds'  weight  of  gold  was 
found  in  her,  besides  other  plunder. 

The  galleon  being  disposed  of,  Drake  and  his 
men  pulled  ashore  to  look  at  the  town.  The  people 
had  all  fled.  In  the  church  they  found  a  chalice, 
two  cruets,  and  an  altar-cloth,  which  were  made 
over  to  the  chaplain  to  improve  his  Communion 
furniture.  A  few  pipes  of  wine  and  a  Greek  pilot 
who  knew  the  way  to  Lima  completed  the  booty. 

*  Shocking  piracy,'  you  will  perhaps  say.  But 
what  Drake  was  doing  would  have  been  all  right 
and  good  service  had  war  been  declared,  and  the 
essence  of  things  does  not  alter  with  the  form.  In 
essence  there  was  war,  deadly  war,  between  Philip 
and  Elizabeth.  Even  later,  when  the  Armada  sailed, 
there  had  been  no  formal  declaration.  The  reality 
is  the  important  part  of  the  matter.  It  was  but 
stroke  for  stroke,  and  the  English  arm  proved  the 
stronger. 

Still  hoping  to  find  Winter  in  advance  of  him, 


Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World  89 

Drake  went  on  next  to  Tarapaca,  where  silver  from 
the  Andes  mines  was  shipped  for  Panama.  At 
Tarapaca  there  was  the  same  unconsciousness  of 
danger.  The  silver  bars  lay  piled  on  the  quay,  the 
muleteers  who  had  brought  them  were  sleeping 
peacefully  in  the  sunshine  at  their  side.  The  mule- 
teers were  left  to  their  slumbers.  The  bars  were 
lifted  into  the  English  boats.  A  train  of  mules  or 
llamas  came  in  at  the  moment  with  a  second  load 
as  rich  as  the  first.  This,  too,  went  into  the  Peli- 
can's hold.  The  bullion  taken  at  Tarapaca  was 
worth  near  half  a  million  ducats. 

Still  there  were  no  news  of  Winter.  Drake  began 
to  realize  that  he  was  now  entirely  alone,  and  had 
only  himself  and  his  own  crew  to  depend  on. 
There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  through  with  it, 
danger  adding  to  the  interest.  Arica  was  the  next 
point  visited.  Half  a  hundred  blocks  of  silver  were 
picked  up  at  Arica.  After  Arica  came  Lima,  the 
chief  depot  of  all,  where  the  grandest  haul  was 
looked  for.  At  Lima,  alas  !  they  were  just  too  late. 
Twelve  great  hulks  lay  anchored  there.  The  sails 
were  unbent,  the  men  were  ashore.  They  contained 
nothing  but  some  chests  of  reals  and  a  few  bales 
of  silk  and  linen.  But  a  thirteenth,  called  by  the 
gods  Our  Lady  of  the  Conception,  called  by  men 
Cacafiiego,  a  name  incapable  of  translation,  had 
saUed  a  few  days  before  for  the  isthmus,  with  the 
whole  produce  of  the  Lima  mines  for  the  season. 
Her  ballast  was  silver,  her  cargo  gold  and  emeralds 
and  rubies. 


90      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Drake  deliberately  cut  the  cables  of  the  ships  in 
the  roads,  that  they  might  drive  ashore  and  be 
unable  to  follow  him.  The  Pelican  spread  her 
wings,  every  feather  of  them,  and  sped  away  in 
pursuit.  He  would  know  the  Cacafuego,  so  he 
learnt  at  Lima,  by  the  peculiar  cut  of  her  sails. 
The  first  man  who  caught  sight  of  her  was  promised 
a  gold  chain  for  his  reward.  A  sail  was  seen  on 
the  second  day.  It  was  not  the  chase,  but  it  was 
worth  stopping  for.  Eighty  pounds'  weight  of  gold 
was  found,  and  a  great  gold  crucifix,  set  with 
emeralds  said  to  be  as  large  as  pigeon's  eggs.  They 
took  the  kernel.  They  left  the  shell.  Still  on  and 
on.  We  learn  from  the  Spanish  accounts  that  the 
Viceroy  of  Lima,  as  soon  as  he  recovered  from  his 
astonishment,  despatched  ships  in  pursuit.  They 
came  up  with  the  last  plundered  vessel,  heard 
terrible  tales  of  the  rovers'  strength,  and  went  back 
for  a  larger  force.  The  Pelican  meanwhile  went 
along  upon  her  course  for  800  miles.  At  length, 
when  in  the  latitude  of  Quito  and  close  under  the 
shore,  the  CoAiafuego's  peculiar  sails  were  sighted, 
and  the  gold  chain  was  claimed.  There  she  was, 
freighted  with  the  fruit  of  Aladdin's  garden,  going 
lazily  along  a  few  miles  ahead.  Care  was  needed 
in  approaching  her.  If  she  guessed  the  Pelican's 
character,  she  would  run  in  upon  the  land  and  they 
would  lose  her.  It  was  afternoon.  The  sun  was 
still  above  the  horizon,  and  Drake  meant  to  wait 
till  night,  when  the  breeze  would  be  off  the  shore, 
as  in  the  tropics  it  always  is. 


Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World  91 

The  Pelican  sailed  two  feet  to  the  Ca/:afuego's 
one.  Drake  filled  his  empty  wine-skins  with  water 
and  trailed  them  astern  to  stop  his  way.  The 
chase  supposed  that  she  was  followed  by  some 
heavy-loaded  trader,  and,  wishing  for  company  on 
a  lonely  voyage,  she  slackened  sail  and  waited  for 
him  to  come  up.  At  length  the  sun  went  down 
into  the  ocean,  the  rosy  light  faded  from  off  the 
snows  of  the  Andes ;  and  when  both  ships  had  be- 
come invisible  from  the  shore,  the  skins  were  hauled 
in,  the  night  wind  rose,  and  the  water  began  to 
ripple  under  the  Pelicaris  bows.  The  Coxiafuego 
was  swiftly  overtaken,  and  when  within  a  cable's 
length  a  voice  hailed  her  to  put  her  head  into  the 
wind.  The  Spanish  commander,  not  understanding 
so  strange  an  order,  held  on  his  course.  A  broad- 
side brought  down  his  mainyard,  and  a  flight  of 
arrows  rattled  on  his  deck.  He  was  himself 
wounded.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was  a  prisoner,  and 
Our  Lady  of  the  Conception  and  her  precious  freight 
were  in  the  corsair's  power.  The  wreck  was  cut 
away ;  the  ship  was  cleared ;  a  prize  crew  was  put 
on  board.  Both  vessels  turned  their  heads  to  the 
sea.  At  daybreak  no  land  was  to  be  seen,  and  the 
examination  of  the  prize  began.  The  full  value 
was  never  acknowledged.  The  invoice,  if  there  was 
one,  was  destroyed.  The  accurate  figures  were 
known  only  to  Drake  and  Queen  Elizabeth.  A 
published  schedule  acknowledged  to  twenty  tons  of 
silver  bullion,  thirteen  chests  of  silver  coins,  and  a 
hundredweight  of  gold,  but  there  were  gold  nuggets 


92       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

besides  in  indefinite  quantity,  and  '  a  great  store ' 
of  pearls,  emeralds,  and  diamonds.  The  Spanish 
Government  proved  a  loss  of  a  million  and  a  half 
of  ducats,  excluding  what  belonged  to  private 
persons.  The  total  capture  was  immeasurably 
greater. 

Drake,  we  are  told,  was  greatly  satisfied.  He 
thought  it  prudent  to  stay  in  the  neighbourhood  no 
longer  than  necessary.  He  went  north  with  all 
sail  set,  taking  his  prize  along  with  him.  The 
master,  San  Juan  de  Anton,  was  removed  on  board 
the  Pelican  to  have  his  wound  attended  to.  He 
remained  as  Drake's  guest  for  a  week,  and  sent  in 
a  report  of  what  he  observed  to  the  Spanish  Govern- 
ment. One  at  least  of  Drake's  party  spoke  excel- 
lent Spanish.  This  person  took  San  Juan  over  the 
ship.  She  showed  signs,  San  Juan  said,  of  rough 
service,  but  was  still  in  fine  condition,  with  ample 
arms,  spare  rope,  mattocks,  carpenters'  tools  of  all 
descriptions.  There  were  eighty-five  men  on  board 
all  told,  fifty  of  them  men-of-war,  the  rest  young 
fellows,  ship-boys  and  the  like.  Drake  himself  was 
treated  with  great  reverence ;  a  sentinel  stood  al- 
ways at  his  cabin  door.     He  dined  alone  with  music. 

No  mystery  was  made  of  the  Pelican's  exploits. 
The  chaplain  showed  San  Juan  the  crucifix  set 
with  emeralds,  and  asked  him  if  he  could  seriously 
believe  that  to  be  God.  San  Juan  asked  Drake 
how  he  meant  to  go  home.  Drake  showed  him  a 
globe  with  three  courses  traced  on  it.  There  was 
the  way  that  he  had  come,  there  was  the  way  by 


Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World  93 

China  and  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  there  was 
a  third  way  which  he  did  not  explain.  San  Juan 
\dsked  if  Spain  and  England  were  at  war.  Drake 
said  he  had  a  commission  from  the  Queen.  His 
captures  were  for  her,  not  for  himself.  He  added 
afterwards  that  the  Viceroy  of  Mexico  had  robbed 
him  and  his  kinsman,  and  he  was  making  good  his 
losses. 

Then,  touching  the  point  of  the  sore,  he  said, 
*  I  know  the  Viceroy  will  send  for  thee  to  inform 
himself  of  my  proceedings.  Tell  him  he  shall  do 
well  to  put  no  more  Englishmen  to  death,  and 
to  spare  those  he  has  in  his  hands,  for  if  he  do 
execute  them  I  will  hang  2,000  Spaniards  and  send 
him  their  heads.' 

After  a  week's  detention  San  Juan  and  his  mer* 
were  restored  to  the  empty  Cacafuego,  and  allowed 
to  go.  On  their  way  back  they  fell  in  with  the  two 
cruisers  sent  in  pursuit  from  Lima,  reinforced  by  a 
third  from  Panama,  They  were  now  fully  armed ; 
they  went  in  chase,  and  according  to  their  own 
account  came  up  with  the  Pelican,  But,  like  Lope 
de  Vega,  they  seemed  to  have  been  terrified  at 
Drake  as  a  sort  of  devil.  They  confessed  that  they 
dared  not  attack  him,  and  again  went  back  for 
more  assistance.  The  Viceroy  abused  them  as 
cowards,  arrested  the  officers,  despatched  others 
again  with  peremptory  orders  to  seize  Drake,  even 
if  he  was  the  devil,  but  by  that  time  their  ques- 
tionable visitor  had  flown.  They  found  nothing, 
perhaps  to  their  relief. 


94      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

A  despatcli  went  instantly  across  the  Atlantic  to 
Philip.  One  squadron  was  sent  off  from  Cadiz  to 
watch  the  Straits  of  Magellan,  and  another  to  patrol 
the  Caribbean  Sea.  It  was  thought  that  Drake's 
third  way  was  no  seaway  at  all,  that  he  meant  to 
leave  the  Pelican  at  Darien,  carry  his  plunder  over 
the  mountains,  and  build  a  ship  at  Honduras  to 
take  him  home.  His  real  idea  was  that  he  might 
hit  off  the  passage  to  the  north  of  which  Frobisher 
and  Davis  thought  they  had  found  the  eastern  en- 
trance. He  stood  on  towards  California,  picking 
up  an  occasional  straggler  in  the  China  trade,  with 
silk,  porcelain,  gold,  and  emeralds.  Fresh  water 
was  a  necessity.  He  put  in  at  Guatulco  for  it,  and 
his  proceedings  were  humorously  prompt.  The 
alcaldes  at  Guatulco  were  in  session  trying  a  batch 
of  negroes.  An  English  boat's  crew  appeared  in 
court,  tied  the  alcaldes  hand  and  foot,  and  carried 
them  off  to  the  Pelican,  there  to  remain  as  hostages 
till  the  water-casks  were  filled. 

North  again  he  fell  in  with  a  galleon  carrying  out 
a  new  Governor  to  the  Philippines.  The  Governor 
was  relieved  of  his  boxes  and  his  jewels,  and  then, 
says  one  of  the  party,  *  Our  General,  thinking  him- 
seK  in  respect  of  his  private  injuries  received  from 
the  Spaniards,  as  also  their  contempt  and  indignities 
offered  to  our  countiy  and  Prince,  sufficiently  satis- 
fied and  revenged,  and  supposing  her  Majesty  would 
rest  contented  with  this  service,  began  to  consider 
the  best  way  home.'  The  first  necessity  was  a  com- 
plete overhaul  of  the  ship.     Before  the  days  of  cop 


Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World  95 

per  sheathing  weeds  grew  thick  under  water.  Bar- 
nacles formed  in  clusters,  stopping  the  speed,  and 
sea- worms  bored  through  the  planking.  Twenty 
thousand  miles  lay  between  the  Pelican  and  Plym- 
outh Sound,  and  Drake  was  not  a  man  to  run  idle 
chances.  Still  holding  his  north  course  till  he 
had  left  the  furthest  Spanish  settlement  far  to  the 
south,  he  put  into  Canoas  Bay  in  California,  laid  the 
Pelican  ashore,  set  up  forge  and  workshop,  and  re- 
paired and  rerigged  her  with  a  month's  labour  from 
stem  to  stem.  With  every  rope  new  set  up  and  new 
canvas  on  every  yard,  he  started  again  on  April  16, 
1579,  and  continued  up  the  coast  to  Oregon.  The 
air  grew  cold  though  it  was  summer.  The  men  felt 
it  from  having  been  so  long  in  the  tropics,  and 
dropped  out  of  health.  There  was  still  no  sign  of 
a  passage.  If  passage  there  was,  Drake  perceived 
that  it  must  be  of  enormous  length.  Magellan's 
Straits,  he  guessed,  would  be  watched  for  him,  so 
he  decided  on  the  route  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope- 
In  the  Philippine  ship  he  had  found  a  chart  of  the 
Indian  Archipelago.  With  the  help  of  this  and  his 
own  skill  he  hoped  to  find  his  way.  He  went  down 
again  to  San  Francisco,  landed  there,  found  the  soil 
teeming  with  gold,  made  acquaintance  with  an  Ind- 
ian king  who  hated  the  Spaniards  and  wished  to 
become  an  English  subject.  But  Drake  had  no 
leisure  to  annex  new  territories.  Avoiding  the 
course  from  Mexico  to  the  Philippines,  he  made  a 
direct  course  to  the  Moluccas,  and  brought  up  again 
at  the  Island  of  Celebes.     Here  the  Pelican  was  a 


96      English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

second  time  docked  and  scraped.  The  crew  had  a 
month's  rest  among  the  fireflies  and  vampires  of  the 
tropical  forest.  Leaving  Celebes,  they  entered  on 
the  most  perilous  part  of  the  whole  voyage.  They 
wound  their  way  among  coral  reefs  and  low  islands 
scarcely  visible  above  the  water-line.  In  their 
chart  the  only  outlet  marked  into  the  Indian  Ocean 
was  by  the  Straits  of  Malacca.  But  Drake  guessed 
rightly  that  there  must  be  some  nearer  opening,  and 
felt  his  way  looking  for  it  along  the  coast  of  Java. 
Spite  of  all  his  care,  he  was  once  on  the  edge  of  de- 
struction. One  evening  as  night  was  closing  in  a 
grating  sound  was  heard  under  the  Pelican's  keel. 
In  another  moment  she  was  hard  and  fast  on  a  reef. 
The  breeze  was  light  and  the  water  smooth,  or  the 
world  would  have  heard  no  more  of  Francis  Drake. 
She  lay  immovable  till  daybreak.  At  dawn  the 
position  was  seen  not  to  be  entirely  desperate. 
Drake  himself  showed  aU  the  qualities  of  a  great 
commander.  Cannon  were  thrown  over  and  cargo 
that  was  not  needed.  In  the  afternoon,  the  wind 
changing,  the  lightened  vessel  lifted  off  the  rocks 
and  was  saved.  The  hull  was  uninjured,  thanks  to 
the  Califomian  repairs.  All  on  board  had  behaved 
weU  with  the  one  exception  of  Mr.  Fletcher,  the 
chaplain.  Mr.  Fletcher,  instead  of  working  like  a 
man,  had  whined  about  Divine  retribution  for  the 
execution  of  Doughty. 

For  the  moment  Drake  passed  it  over.  A  few 
days  after,  they  passed  out  through  the  Straits  of 
Sunda,  where   they  met  the    great    ocean    swell, 


Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World  97 

Homer's  fi&^a  KVfjM  daXdacq^,  and  they  knew  then 
that  all  was  well. 

There  was  now  time  to  call  Mr.  Fletcher  to  ac- 
count. It  was  no  business  of  the  chaplain  to  dis- 
courage and  dispirit  men  in  a  moment  of  danger, 
and  a  court  was  formed  to  sit  upon  him.  An  Eng- 
lish captain  on  his  own  deck  represents  the  sover- 
eign, and  is  head  of  Church  as  well  as  State.  Mr. 
Fletcher  was  brought  to  the  forecastle,  where  Drake, 
sitting  on  a  sea-chest  with  a  pair  of  pantoujles  in  his 
hand,  excommunicated  him,  pronounced  him  cut  oflf 
from  the  Church  of  God,  given  over  to  the  devil  for 
the  chastising  of  his  flesh,  and  left  him  chained  by 
the  leg  to  a  ring-bolt  to  repent  of  his  cowardice. 

In  the  general  good-humour  punishment  could  not 
be  of  long  duration.  The  next  day  the  poor  chap- 
lain had  his  absolution  and  returned  to  his  berth 
and  his  duty.  The  Pelican  met  with  no  more  ad- 
ventures. Sweeping  in  fine  clear  weather  round 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  she  touched  once  for  water 
at  Sierra  Leone,  and  finally  sailed  in  triumph  into 
Plymouth  Harbour,  where  she  had  been  long  given 
up  for  lost,  having  traced  the  first  furrow  round  the 
globe.  Winter  had  come  home  eighteen  months  be- 
fore, but  could  report  nothing.  The  news  of  the  doings 
on  the  American  coast  had  reached  England  through 
Madrid.  The  Spanish  ambassador  had  been  furious. 
It  was  known  that  Spanish  squadrons  had  been  sent 
in  search.  Complications  would  arise  if  Drake 
brought  his  plunder  home,  and  timid  politicians 
hoped  that  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.     But 


98       English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

here  he  was,  actually  arrived  with  a  monarch's  ran- 
som in  his  hold. 

EngHsh  sympathy  with  an  extraordinary  exploit 
is  always  irresistible.  Shouts  of  applause  rang 
through  the  country,  and  Elizabeth,  every  bit  of  her 
an  Englishwoman,  felt  with  her  subjects.  She  sent 
for  Drake  to  London,  made  him  tell  his  story  over 
and  over  again,  and  was  never  weary  of  listening  to 
him.  As  to  injury  to  Spain,  Philip  had  lighted  a 
fresh  insurrection  in  Ireland,  which  had  cost  her 
dearly  in  lives  and  money.  For  Philip  to  demand 
compensation  of  England  on  the  score  of  justice  was 
a  thing  to  make  the  gods  laugh. 

So  thought  the  Queen.  So  unfortunately  did  not 
think  some  members  of  her  Council,  Lord  Burghley 
among  them.  Mendoza  was  determined  that  Drake 
should  be  punished  and  the  spoils  disgorged,  or 
else  that  he  would  force  Elizabeth  upon  the  world 
as  the  confessed  protectress  of  piracy.  Burghley 
thought  that,  as  things  stood,  some  satisfaction  (or 
the  form  of  it)  would  have  to  be  made. 

EHzabeth  hated  paying  back  as  heartily  as  Fal~ 
staff,  nor  had  she  the  least  intention  of  throwing 
to  the  wolves  a  gallant  Englishman,  with  whose 
achievements  the  world  was  ringing.  She  was 
obliged  to  allow  the  treasure  to  be  registered  by  a 
responsible  official,  and  an  account  rendered  to 
Mendoza ;  but  for  all  that  she  meant  to  keep  her 
own  share  of  the  spoils.  She  meant,  too,  that  Drake 
and  his  brave  crew  should  not  go  unrewarded.  Drake 
himself  should  have  ten  thousand  pounds  at  least. 


Drake's  Voyage  Bound  the  World  99 

Her  action  was  eminently  characteristic  of  her. 
On  the  score  of  real  justice  there  was  no  doubt  at 
all  how  matters  stood  between  herself  and  Philip, 
who  had  tried  to  dethrone  and  kill  her. 

The  Pelican  lay  still  at  Plymouth  with  the  bul- 
lion and  jewels  untouched.  She  directed  that  it 
should  be  landed  and  scheduled.  She  trusted  the 
business  to  Edmund  Tremayne,  of  Sydenham,  a 
neighbouring  magistrate,  on  whom  she  could  de- 
pend. She  told  him  not  to  be  too  inquisitive,  and 
she  allowed  Drake  to  go  back  and  arrange  the  cargo 
before  the  examination  was  made.  Let  me  now 
read  you  a  letter  from  Tremayne  himself  to  Sir 
Francis  Walsingham : — 

*  To  give  you  some  understanding  how  I  have  pro- 
ceeded with  Mr.  Drake  :  I  have  at  no  time  entered 
into  the  account  to  know  more  of  the  value  of  the 
treasure  than  he  made  me  acquainted  with ;  and  to 
say  truth  I  persuaded  him  to  impart  to  me  no  more 
than  need,  for  so  I  saw  him  commanded  in  her 
Majesty's  behalf  that  he  should  reveal  the  certainty 
to  no  man  living.  I  have  only  taken  notice  of  so 
much  as  he  has  revealed,  and  the  same  I  have  seen 
to  be  weighed,  registered,  and  packed.  And  to  ob- 
serve her  Majesty's  commands  for  the  ten  thousand 
pounds,  we  agreed  he  should  take  it  out  of  the  por- 
tion that  was  landed  secretly,  and  to  remove  the 
same  out  of  the  place  before  my  son  Henry  and  I 
should  come  to  the  weighing  and  registering  of 
what  was  left ,  and  so  it  was  done,  and  no  creature 
living  by  me  made  privy  to  it  but  himself;  and 


100    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

myself  no  privier  to  it  than  as  you  may  perceive 
by  this. 

*  I  see  nothing  to  charge  Mr.  Drake  further  than 
he  is  inclined  to  charge  himself,  and  withal  I  must 
say  he  is  inclined  to  advance  the  value  to  be  deliv- 
ered to  her  Majesty,  and  seeking  in  general  to 
recompense  all  men  that  have  been  in  the  case 
dealers  with  him.  As  I  dare  take  an  oath,  he  will 
rather  diminish  his  own  portion  than  leave  any  of 
them  unsatisfied.  And  for  his  mariners  and  follow- 
ers I  have  seen  here  as  eye-witness,  and  have 
heard  with  my  ears,  such  certain  signs  of  goodwill 
as  I  cannot  yet  see  that  any  of  them  will  leave  his 
company.  The  whole  course  of  his  voyage  hath 
showed  him  to  be  of  great  valour ;  but  my  hap  has 
been  to  see  some  particulars,  and  namely  in  this 
discharge  of  his  company,  as  doth  assure  me  that 
he  is  a  man  of  great  government,  and  that  by  the 
rules  of  God  and  his  book,  so  as  proceeding  on  such 
foundation  his  doings  cannot  but  prosper.' 

The  result  of  it  all  was  that  deductions  were  made 
from  the  capture  equivalent  to  the  property  which 
Drake  and  Hawkins  held  themselves  to  have  been 
treacherously  plimdered  of  at  San  Juan  de  Ulloa, 
with  perhaps  other  liberal  allowances  for  the  cost 
of  recovery.  An  account  on  part  of  what  remained 
was  then  given  to  Mendoza.  It  was  not  returned 
to  him  or  to  Philip,  but  was  laid  up  in  the  Tower  till 
the  final  settlement  of  Philip's  and  the  Queen's 
claims  on  each  other — the  cost,  for  one  thing,  of 
the  rebellion  in  Ireland.     Commissioners  met  and 


Drake's  Voyage  Bound  the  World  101 

argued  and  sat  on  ineffectually  till  the  Armada  came 
and  the  discussion  ended,  and  the  talk  of  restitution 
was  over.  Meanwhile,  opinion  varied  about  Drake's 
own  doings  as  it  has  varied  since.  Elizabeth  lis- 
tened spellbound  to  his  adventures,  sent  for  him  to 
London  again,  and  walked  with  him  publicly  about 
the  parks  and  gardens.  She  gave  him  a  second 
ten  thousand  pounds.  The  Pelican  was  sent  round 
to  Deptford ;  a  royal  banquet  was  held  on  board, 
Elizabeth  attended  and  Drake  was  knighted.  Men- 
doza  clamoured  for  the  treasure  in  the  Tower  to  be 
given  up  to  him ;  Walsingham  wished  to  give  it  to 
the  Prince  of  Orange ;  Leicester  and  his  party  in 
the  Council,  who  had  helped  to  fit  Drake  out, 
thought  it  ought  to  be  divided  among  themselves, 
and  unless  Mendoza  lies  they  offered  to  share  it  with 
him  if  he  would  agree  to  a  private  arrangement. 
Mendoza  says  he  answered  that  he  would  give  twice 
as  much  to  chastise  such  a  bandit  as  Drake.  Eliza- 
beth thought  it  should  be  kept  as  a  captured  pawn 
in  the  game,  and  so  in  fact  it  remained  after  the  de- 
ductions which  we  have  seen  had  been  made. 

Drake  was  lavish  of  his  presents.  He  presented 
the  Queen  with  a  diamond  cross  and  a  coronet  set 
with  splendid  emeralds.  He  gave  Bromley,  the 
Lord  Chancellor,  800  dollars'  worth  of  silver  plate, 
and  as  much  more  to  other  members  of  the  Council. 
The  Queen  wore  her  coronet  on  New  Year's  Day ; 
the  Chancellor  was  content  to  decorate  his  side- 
board at  the  cost  of  the  Catholic  King.  Burghley 
and  Sussex  declined  the  splendid  temptation ;  they 

U6RARY 
UWVERSITY  OF  CAUFOWflA 


102    English  Seajnen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

said  they  could  accept  no  such  precious  gifts  from 
a  man  whose  fortune  had  been  made  by  plunder. 

Burghley  lived  to  see  better  into  Drake's  value. 
Meanwhile,  what  now  are  we,  looking  back  over 
our  history,  to  say  of  these  things — the  Channel 
privateering;  the  seizure  of  Alva's  army  money; 
the  sharp  practice  of  Hawkins  with  the  Queen  of 
Scots  and  King  Philip ;  or  this  amazing  perform- 
ance of  Sir  Francis  Drake  in  a  vessel  no  larger 
than  a  second-rate  yacht  of  a  modern  noble  lord? 

Resolution,  daring,  professional  skill,  all  his- 
torians allow  to  these  men ;  but,  like  Burghley, 
they  regard  what  they  did  as  piracy,  not  much 
better,  if  at  all  better,  than  the  later  exploits  of 
Morgan  and  Kidd,  So  cried  the  Catholics  who 
wished  Elizabeth's  ruin;  so  cried  Lope  de  Vega 
and  King  Philip.  In  milder  language  the  modern 
philosopher  repeats  the  unfavourable  verdict,  re- 
joices that  he  lives  in  an  age  when  such  doings  are 
impossible,  and  apologises  faintly  for  the  excesses  of 
an  imperfect  age.  May  I  remind  the  philosopher 
that  we  live  in  an  age  when  other  things  have  also 
happily  become  impossible,  and  that  if  he  and  his 
friends  were  liable  when  they  went  abroad  for  their 
summer  tours  to  be  snapped  by  the  familiars  of  the 
Inquisition,  whipped,  burnt  alive,  or  sent  to  the 
galleys,  he  would  perhaps  think  more  leniently  of 
any  measures  by  which  that  respectable  institution 
and  its  masters  might  be  induced  to  treat  philoso- 
phers with  greater  consideration  ? 

Again,  remember  Dr.  Johnson's  warning.  Beware 


Drake's  Voyage  Round  the  World  103 

of  cant.  In  that  intensely  serious  century  men  were 
more  occupied  with  the  realities  than  the  forms  of 
things.  By  encouraging  rebellion  in  England  and 
Ireland,  by  burning  so  many  scores  of  poor  English 
seamen  and  merchants  in  fools'  coats  at  Seville, 
the  King  of  Spain  had  given  Elizabeth  a  hundred 
occasions  for  declaring  war  against  him.  Situated 
as  she  was,  with  so  many  disaffected  Catholic  sub- 
jects, she  could  not  begin  a  war  on  such  a  quarrel. 
She  had  to  use  such  resources  as  she  had,  and  of 
these  resources  the  best  was  a  splendid  race  of  men 
who  were  not  afraid  to  do  for  her  at  their  own  risk 
what  commissioned  officers  would  and  might  have 
justly  done  had  formal  war  been  declared,  men  who 
defeated  the  national  enemy  with  materials  con- 
quered from  himself,  who  were  devoted  enough  to 
dispense  with  the  personal  security  which  the  sove- 
reign's commission  would  have  extended  to  prison- 
ers of  war,  and  face  the  certainty  of  being  hanged 
if  they  were  taken.  Yes ;  no  doubt  by  the  letter  of 
the  law  of  nations  Drake  and  Hawkins  were  cor- 
sairs of  the  same  stuff  as  Ulysses,  as  the  rovers  of 
Norway.  But  the  common-sense  of  Europe  saw 
through  the  form  to  the  substance  which  lay  below 
it,  and  the  instinct  of  their  countrymen  gave  them 
a  place  among  the  fighting  heroes  of  England,  from 
which  I  do  not  think  they  will  be  deposed  by  the 
eventual  verdict  of  history. 


LECTUEE  V 

PARTIES   IN  THE  STATE 

On  December  21,  1585,  a  remarkable  scene  took 
place  in  the  English  House  of  Commons.  The 
Prince  of  Orange,  after  many  attempts  had  failed, 
had  been  successfully  disposed  of  in  the  Low  Coun- 
tries. A  fresh  conspiracy  had  just  been  discovered 
for  a  Catholic  insurrection  in  England,  supported 
by  a  foreign  invasion ;  the  object  of  which  was  to 
dethrone  Elizabeth  and  to  give  her  crown  to  Mary 
Stuart.  The  Duke  of  Alva,  at  the  time  of  the 
Ridolfi  plot,  had  pointed  out  as  a  desirable  pre- 
liminary, if  the  invasion  was  to  succeed,  the  assas- 
sination of  the  Queen  of  England.  The  succession 
being  undecided,  he  had  calculated  that  the  confu- 
sion would  paralyse  resistance,  and  the  notorious 
favour  with  which  Mary  Stuart's  pretensions  were 
regarded  by  a  powerful  English  party  would  ensure 
her  an  easy  victory  were  Elizabeth  once  removed. 
But  this  was  an  indispensable  condition.  It  had 
become  clear  at  last  that  so  long  as  Elizabeth  was 
alive  Philip  would  not  willingly  sanction  the  land- 
ing of  a  Spanish  army  on  English  shores.  Thus, 
among  the  more  ardent  Catholics,  especially  the 
refugees  at  the  Seminary  at  Rheims,  a  crown  in 


Parties  in  the  State  105 

heaven  was  held  out  to  any  spiritual  knight-errant 
who  would  remove  the  obstacle.  The  entei-prise 
itself  was  not  a  difficult  one.  Elizabeth  was  aware 
of  her  danger,  but  she  was  personally  fearless. 
She  refused  to  distrust  the  Catholics.  Her  house- 
hold was  full  of  them.  She  admitted  anyone  to 
her  presence  who  desired  a  private  interview.  Dr. 
Parry,  a  member  of  Parliament,  primed  by  encour- 
agements from  the  Cardinal  of  Como  and  the  Vatican, 
had  undertaken  to  risk  his  life  to  win  the  glorious 
prize.  He  introduced  himself  into  the  palace, 
properly  provided  with  arms.  He  professed  to  have 
information  of  importance  to  give.  The  Queen 
received  him  repeatedly.  Once  he  was  alone  with 
her  in  the  palace  garden,  and  was  on  the  point  of 
killing  her,  when  he  was  awed,  as  he  said,  by  the 
likeness  to  her  father.  Parry  was  discovered  and 
hanged,  but  Elizabeth  refused  to  take  warning. 
When  there  were  so  many  aspirants  for  the  honour 
of  removing  Jezebel,  and  Jezebel  was  so  easy  of 
approach,  it  was  felt  that  one  would  at  last  suc- 
ceed ;  and  the  loyal  part  of  the  nation,  led  by  Lord 
Burghley,  formed  themselves  into  an  association  to 
protect  a  life  so  vital  to  them  and  apparently  so 
indifferent  to  herself. 

The  subscribers  bound  themselves  to  pursue  to 
the  death  all  manner  of  persons  who  should  attempt 
or  consent  to  anything  to  the  harm  of  her  Majesty's 
person ;  never  to  allow  or  submit  to  any  pretended 
successor  by  whom  or  for  whom  such  detestable  act 
should  be  attempted  or  committed ;  but  to  pursue 


106    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

such  persons  to  death  and  act  the  utmost  revenge 
upon  them. 

The  bond  in  its  first  form  was  a  visible  creation 
of  despair.  It  implied  a  condition  of  things  in 
which  order  would  have  ceased  to  exist.  The  law- 
yers, who,  it  is  curious  to  observe,  were  generally 
in  Mary  Stuart's  interest,  vehemently  objected;  yet 
so  passionate  was  public  feeling  that  it  was  signed 
throughout  the  kingdom,  and  Parliament  was  called 
to  pass  an  Act  which  would  secure  the  same  object. 
Mary  Stuart,  at  any  rate,  was  not  to  benefit  by  the 
crimes  either  of  herself  or  her  admirers.  It  was 
provided  that  if  the  realm  was  invaded,  or  a  rebel- 
lion instigated  by  or  for  any  one  pretending  a  title 
to  the  crown  after  the  Queen's  death,  such  pretender 
should  be  disqualified  for  ever.  In  the  event  of  the 
Queen's  assassination  the  government  was  to  devolve 
on  a  Committee  of  Peers  and  Privy  Councillors, 
who  were  to  examine  the  particulars  of  the  murder 
and  execute  the  perpetrators  and  their  accomplices ; 
while,  with  a  significant  allusion,  all  Jesuits  and 
seminary  priests  were  required  to  leave  the  country 
instantly,  under  pain  of  death. 

The  House  of  Commons  was  heaving  with  emotion 
when  the  Act  was  sent  up  to  the  Peers.  To  give 
expression  to  their  burning  feelings  Sir  Christopher 
Hatton  proposed  that  before  they  separated  they 
should  join  him  in  a  prayer  for  the  Queen's  preser- 
vation. The  400  members  aU  rose,  and  knelt  on 
the  floor  of  the  House,  repeating  Hatton's  words 
after  him,  sentence  by  sentence. 


Parties  in  the  State  lOY 

Jesuits  and  seminary  priests !  Attempts  have 
been  made  to  justify  the  conspiracies  against 
Elizabeth  from  what  is  called  the  persecution  of  the 
innocent  enthusiasts  who  came  from  Rheims  to 
preach  the  Catholic  faith  to  the  English  people. 
Popular  writers  and  speakers  dwell  on  the  execu- 
tions of  Campian  and  his  friends  as  worse  than  the 
Smithfield  burnings,  and  amidst  general  admiration 
and  approval  these  martyred  saints  have  been  lately 
canonised.  Their  mission,  it  is  said,  was  purely 
religious.  Was  it  so?  The  chief  article  in  the 
religion  which  they  came  to  teach  was  the  duty  of 
obedience  to  the  Pope,  who  had  excommunicated 
the  Queen,  had  absolved  her  subjects  from  their 
allegiance,  and,  by  a  relaxation  of  the  Bull,  had 
permitted  them  to  pretend  to  loyalty  ad  illvd  tempus, 
till  a  Catholic  army  of  deliverance  should  arrive. 
A  Pope  had  sent  a  legate  to  Ireland,  and  was  at 
that  moment  stirring  up  a  bloody  insurrection  there. 

But  what  these  seminary  priests  were,  and  what 
their  object  was,  will  best  appear  from  an  account 
of  the  condition  of  England,  drawn  up  for  the  use 
of  the  Pope  and  Philip,  by  Father  Parsons,  who 
was  himself  at  the  head  of  the  mission.  The  date 
of  it  is  1585,  almost  simultaneous  with  the  scene  in 
Parliament  which  I  have  just  been  describing.  The 
EngUsh  refugees,  from  Cardinal  Pole  downwards, 
were  the  most  active  and  passionate  preachers  of 
a  Catholic  crusade  against  England.  They  failed, 
but  they  have  revenged  themselves  in  history.  Pole, 
Sanders,  Allen,  and  Parsons  have  coloured  all  that 


108     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

we  suppose  ourselves  to  know  of  Henry  VIII.  and 
Elizabeth.  "What  I  am  about  to  read  to  you  does 
not  diflfer  essentially  from  what  we  have  already 
heard  from  these  persons ;  but  it  is  new,  and,  being 
intended  for  practical  guidance,  is  complete  in  its 
way.  It  comes  from  the  Spanish  archives,  and  is 
not  therefore  open  to  suspicion.  Parsons,  as  you 
know,  was  a  Fellow  of  Balliol  before  his  conversion ; 
Allen  was  a  Fellow  of  Oriel,  and  Sanders  of  New 
College.  An  Oxford  Church  of  England  education 
is  an  excellent  thing,  and  beautiful  characters  have 
been  formed  in  the  Catholic  universities  abroad; 
but  as  the  elements  of  dynamite  are  innocent  in 
themselves,  yet  when  fused  together  produce  effects 
no  one  would  have  dreamt  of,  so  Oxford  and  Rome, 
when  they  have  run  together,  have  always  generated 
a  somewhat  furious  compound. 

Parsons  describes  his  statement  as  a  *  brief  note 
on  the  present  condition  of  England,'  from  which 
may  be  inferred  the  ease  and  opportuneness  of  the 
holy  enterprise.  '  England,'  he  says,  *  contains  j&fty- 
two  counties,  of  which  forty  are  well  inclined  to  the 
Catholic  faith.  Heretics  in  these  are  few,  and  are 
hated  by  all  ranks.  The  remaining  twelve  are  in- 
fected more  or  less,  but  even  in  these  the  Catholics 
are  in  the  majority.  Divide  England  into  three 
parts;  two-thirds  at  least  are  Catholic  at  heart, 
though  many  conceal  their  convictions  in  fear  of  the 
Queen.  English  Catholics  are  of  two  sorts — one 
which  makes  an  open  profession  regardless  of  con- 
sequences, the  other  believing  at  the  bottom,  but 


Parties  in  the  State  109 

unwilling  to  risk  life  or  fortune,  and  so  submitting 
outwardly  to  the  heretic  laws,  but  as  eager  as  the 
Catholic  confessors  for  redemption  from  slavery. 

•The  Queen  and  her  party,'  he  goes  on,  'more 
fear  these  secret  Catholics  than  those  who  wear 
their  colours  openly.  The  latter  they  can  fine,  dis- 
arm, and  make  innocuous.  The  others,  being  out- 
wardly compliant,  cannot  be  touched,  nor  can  any 
precaution  be  taken  against  their  rising  when  the 
day  of  divine  vengeance  shall  arrive. 

'The  counties  specially  Catholic  are  the  most 
warlike,  and  contain  harbours  and  other  conveniences 
for  the  landing  of  an  invading  army.  The  north 
towards  the  Scotch  border  has  been  traiued  in  con- 
stant fighting.  The  Scotch  nobles  on  the  other 
side  are  Catholic  and  will  lend  their  help.  So  will 
all  Wales. 

'The  inhabitants  of  the  midland  and  southern 
provinces,  where  the  taint  is  deepest,  are  indolent 
and  cowardly,  and  do  not  know  what  war  means. 
The  towns  are  more  corrupt  than  the  country  dis- 
tricts. But  the  strength  of  England  does  not  lie,  as 
on  the  Continent,  in  towns  and  cities.  The  town 
population  are  merchants  and  craftsmen,  rarely  or 
never  nobles  or  magnates. 

'  The  nobility,  who  have  the  real  power,  reside 
with  their  retinues  in  castles  scattered  over  the 
land.  The  wealthy  yeomen  are  strong  and  honest, 
all  attached  to  the  ancient  faith,  and  may  be  count- 
ed on  when  an  attempt  is  made  for  the  restoration 
of  it.     The  knights  and  gentry  are  generally  well 


110     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

aflfected  also,  and  will  be  well  to  the  front.  Many 
of  their  sons  are  being  now  educated  in  our  semi- 
naries. Some  are  in  exile,  but  all,  whether  at  home 
or  abroad,  will  be  active  on  our  side. 

*0f  the  great  peers,  marquises,  earls,  viscounts, 
and  barons,  part  are  with  us,  part  against  us.  But 
the  latter  sort  are  new  creations,  whom  the  Queen 
has  promoted  either  for  heresy  or  as  her  personal 
lovers,  and  therefore  universally  abhorred. 

'  The  premier  peer  of  the  old  stock  is  the  Earl  of 
Arundel,  son  and  heir  of  the  late  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
whom  she  has  imprisoned  because  he  tried  to  es- 
cape out  of  the  realm.  This  earl  is  entirely  Catholic, 
as  well  as  his  brothers  and  kinsmen ;  and  they  have 
powerful  vassals  who  are  eager  to  revenge  the  injury 
of  their  lord.  The  Earl  of  Northumberland  and  his 
brothers  are  Catholics.  They  too  have  family 
wrongs  to  repay,  their  father  having  been  this  year 
murdered  in  the  Tower,  and  they  have  placed  them- 
selves at  my  disposal.  The  Earl  of  "Worcester  and 
his  heir  hate  heresy,  and  are  devoted  to  us  with  all 
their  dependents.  The  Earls  of  Cumberland  and 
Southampton  and  Viscount  Montague  are  faithful, 
and  have  a  large  following.  Besides  these  we  have 
many  of  the  barons — Dacre,  Morley,  Vaux,  Wind- 
sor, Wharton,  Lovelace,  Stourton,  and  others  be- 
sides. The  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  with  Lord  Paget 
and  Sir  Francis  Englefield,  who  reside  abroad,  have 
been  incredibly  earnest  in  promoting  our  enterprise. 
With  such  support,  it  is  impossible  that  we  can  fail. 
These  lords  and  gentlemen,  when  they  aee  efficient 


Parties  in  the  State  111 

help  coming  to  them,  will  certainly  rise,  and  for  the 
following  reasons : — 

*  1.  Because  some  of  the  principals  among  them 
have  given  me  their  promise. 

'  2.  Because,  on  hearing  that  Pope  Pius  intended 
to  excommunicate  and  depose  the  Queen  sixteen 
years  ago,  many  Catholics  did  rise.  They  only 
failed  because  no  support  was  sent  them,  and  the 
Pope's  sentence  had  not  at  that  time  been  actually 
published.  Now,  when  the  Pope  has  spoken  and 
help  is  certain,  there  is  not  a  doubt  how  they  will 
act. 

*3.  Because  the  Catholics  are  now  much  more 
numerous,  and  have  received  daily  instruction  in 
their  religion  from  our  priests.  There  is  now  no 
orthodox  Catholic  in  the  whole  realm  who  supposes 
that  he  is  any  longer  bound  in  conscience  to  obey 
the  Queen.  Books  for  the  occasion  have  been  writ- 
ten and  published  by  us,  in  which  we  prove  that  it 
is  not  only  lawful  for  Catholics,  but  their  positive 
duty,  to  fight  against  the  Queen  and  heresy  when 
the  Pope  bids  them  ;  and  these  books  are  so  greed- 
ily read  among  them  that  when  the  time  comes  they 
are  certain  to  take  arms. 

*  4.  The  Catholics  in  these  late  years  have  shown 
their  real  feeling  in  the  martyrdoms  of  priests  and 
laymen,  and  in  attempts  made  by  several  of  them 
against  the  person  and  State  of  the  Queen.  Various 
Catholics  have  tried  to  kill  her  at  the  risk  of  their 
own  lives,  and  are  still  trying. 

'5.  We  have   three  hundred    priests    dispersed 


112     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

among  the  houses  of  the  nobles  and  honest  gentry. 
Every  day  we  add  to  their  number ;  and  these 
priests  will  direct  the  consciences  and  actions  of 
the  Catholics  at  the  great  crisis. 

*  6.  They  have  been  so  harried  and  so  worried 
that  they  hate  the  heretics  worse  than  they  hate 
the  Turks. 

'  Should  any  of  them  fear  the  introduction  of  a 
Spanish  army  as  dangerous  to  their  national  liber- 
ties, there  is  an  easy  way  to  satisfy  their  scruples. 
Let  it  be  openly  declared  that  the  enterprise  is 
undertaken  in  the  name  of  the  Pope,  and  there  will 
be  no  more  hesitation.  We  have  ourselves  prepared 
a  book  for  their  instruction,  to  be  issued  at  the 
right  moment.  If  his  Holiness  desires  to  see  it  we 
will  have  it  translated  into  Latin  for  his  use. 

'Before  the  enterprise  is  undertaken  the  sen- 
tence of  excommunication  and  deposition  ought  to 
be  reissued,  with  special  clauses. 

*  It  must  be  published  in  all  adjoining  Catholic 
countries;  all  Catholic  kings  and  princes  must  be 
admonished  to  forbid  every  description  of  inter- 
course with  the  pretended  Queen  and  her  heretic 
subjects,  and  themselves  especially  to  make  or  ob- 
serve no  treaties  with  her,  to  send  no  embassies  to 
her  and  admit  none ;  to  render  no  help  to  her  of 
any  sort  or  kind. 

'Besides  those  who  wiU  be  our  friends  for  re- 
ligion's sake  we  shall  have  others  with  us — neutrals 
or  heretics  of  milder  sort,  or  atheists,  with  whom 
England  now  abounds,  who  will  join  us  in  the  in- 


Parties  in  the  State  113 

terest  of  the  Queen  of  Scots.  Among  them  are 
the  Marquis  of  Winchester,  the  Earls  of  Shrews- 
bury, Derby,  Oxford,  Rutland,  and  several  other 
peers.  The  Queen  of  Scots  herself  will  be  of  in- 
finite assistance  to  us  in  securing  these.  She 
knows  who  are  her  secret  friends.  She  has  been 
able  so  far,  and  we  trust  will  always  be  able,  to 
communicate  with  them.  She  wiU  see  that  they  are 
ready  at  the  right  time.  She  has  often  written  to 
me  to  say  that  she  hopes  that  she  will  be  able  to 
escape  when  the  time  comes.  In  her  last  letter  she 
urges  me  to  be  vehement  with  his  Holiness  in 
pushing  on  the  enterprise,  and  bids  him  have  no 
concern  for  her  own  safety.  She  believes  that  she 
can  care  for  herself.  If  not,  she  says  she  will  lose 
her  life  willingly  in  a  cause  so  sacred. 

'  The  enemies  that  we  shall  have  to  deal  with  are 
the  more  determined  heretics  whom  we  call  Puri- 
tans, and  certain  creatures  of  the  Queen,  the  Earls 
of  Leicester  and  Huntingdon,  and  a  few  others. 
They  will  have  an  advantage  in  the  money  in  the 
Treasury,  the  public  arms  and  stores,  and  the  army 
and  navy,  but  none  of  them  have  ever  seen  a  camp. 
The  leaders  have  been  nuzzled  in  love-making  and 
Court  pleasures,  and  they  will  all  fly  at  the  first 
shock  of  war.  They  have  not  a  man  who  can  com- 
mand in  the  field.  In  the  whole  realm  there  are 
but  two  fortresses  which  could  stand  a  three  days' 
siege.  The  people  are  enervated  by  long  peace, 
and,  except  a  few  who  have  served  with  the  heretics 
in  Flanders,  cannot  bear  their  arms.     Of  those  fe\f 


114    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

some  are  dead  and  some  have  deserted  to  the 
Prince  of  Parma,  a  clear  proof  of  the  real  disposition 
to  revolt.  There  is  abundance  of  food  and  cattle  in 
the  country,  all  of  which  will  be  at  our  service  and 
cannot  be  kept  from  us.  Everywhere  there  are  safe 
and  roomy  harbours,  almost  all  undefended.  An 
invading  force  can  be  landed  with  ease,  and  there 
will  be  no  lack  of  local  pilots.  Fifteen  thousand 
trained  soldiers  will  be  sufficient,  aided  by  the 
Catholic  English,  though,  of  course,  the  larger  the 
force,  particularly  if  it  includes  cavalry,  the  quicker 
the  work  will  be  done  and  the  less  the  expense. 
Practically  there  will  be  nothing  to  overcome  save 
an  unwarlike  and  undisciplined  mob. 

*  Sixteen  times  England  has  been  invaded.  Twice 
only  the  native  race  have  repelled  the  attacking 
force.  They  have  been  defeated  on  every  other  oc- 
casion, and  with  a  cause  so  holy  and  just  as  ours  we 
need  not  fear  to  fail.  The  expenses  shall  be  repaid 
to  his  Holiness  and  the  Catholic  King  out  of  the 
property  of  the  heretics  and  the  Protestant  clergy. 
There  will  be  ample  in  these  resources  to  compen- 
sate all  who  give  us  their  hand.  But  the  work  must 
be  done  promptly.  Delay  will  be  infinitely  danger- 
ous. If  we  put  off,  as  we  have  done  hitherto,  the 
Catholics  vdll  be  tired  out  and  reduced  in  numbers 
and  strength.  The  nobles  and  priests  now  in  exile, 
and  able  to  be  of  such  service,  will  break  down  in 
poverty.  The  Queen  of  Scots  may  be  executed  or 
die  a  natural  death,  or  something  may  happen  to  the 
Catholic  King  or  his  Holiness.     The  Queen  of  Eng- 


Parties  in  the  State  115 

land  may  herself  die,  a  heretic  Government  may  be 
reconstructed  under  a  heretic  successor,  the  young 
Scotch  king  or  some  other,  and  our  case  will  then  be 
desperate ;  whereas  if  we  can  prevent  this  and  save 
the  Queen  of  Scots  there  will  be  good  hope  of  con- 
verting her  son  and  reducing  the  whole  island  to  the 
obedience  of  the  faith.  Now  is  the  moment.  The 
French  Government  cannot  interfere.  The  Duke  of 
Guise  will  help  us  for  the  sake  of  the  faith  and  for 
his  kinswoman.  The  Turks  are  quiet.  The  Church 
was  never  stronger  or  more  united.  Part  of  Italy  is 
under  the  Catholic  King ;  the  rest  is  in  league  mth 
his  Holiness.  The  revolt  in  the  Low  Countries  is 
all  but  crushed.  The  sea  provinces  are  on  the  point 
of  surrendering.  If  they  give  up  the  contest  their 
harbours  will  be  at  our  service  for  the  invasion.  If 
not,  the  way  to  conquer  them  is  to  conquer  England. 
*  I  need  not  urge  how  much  it  imports  his  Holi- 
ness to  undertake  this  glorious  work.  He,  su- 
premely wise  as  he  is,  knows  that  from  this  Jezebel 
and  her  supporters  come  all  the  perils  which  dis- 
turb the  Christian  world.  He  knows  that  heretical 
depravity  and  all  our  other  miseries  can  only  end 
when  this  woman  is  chastised.  Reverence  for  his 
Holiness  and  love  for  my  afflicted  country  force  me 
to  speak.  I  submit  to  his  most  holy  judgment  my- 
self and  my  advice.' 

The  most  ardent  Catholic  apologist  will  hardly 
maintain,  in  the  face  of  this  document,  that  the  Eng- 
lish Jesuits  and  seminary  priests  were  the  innocent 


116     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

missionaries  of  religion  which  the  modem  enemies 
of  Elizabeth's  Government  describe  them.  Father 
Parsons,  the  writer  of  it,  was  himself  the  leader  and 
director  of  the  Jesuit  invasion,  and  cannot  be  sup- 
posed to  have  misrepresented  the  purpose  for  which 
they  had  been  sent  over.  The  point  of  special  in- 
terest is  the  account  which  he  gives  of  the  state  of 
parties  and  general  feeling  in  the  English  people. 
Was  there  that  wide  disposition  to  welcome  an  in- 
vading army  in  so  large  a  majority  of  the  nation  ? 
The  question  is  supposed  to  have  been  triumphantly 
answered  three  years  later,  when  it  is  asserted  that 
the  diflference  of  creed  was  forgotten,  and  Catholics 
and  Protestants  fought  side  by  side  for  the  liber- 
ties of  England.  But,  in  the  first  place,  the  circum- 
stances were  changed.  The  Queen  of  Scots  no  longer 
lived,  and  the  success  of  the  Armada  implied  a  for- 
eign sovereign.  But,  next,  the  experiment  was  not 
tried.  The  battle  was  fought  at  sea,  by  a  fleet  four- 
fifths  of  which  was  composed  of  Protestant  adventur- 
ers, fitted  out  and  manned  by  those  zealous  Puritans 
whose  fidelity  to  the  Queen  Parsons  himself  admit- 
ted. Lord  Howard  may  have  been  an  Auglo-Catho- 
lic ;  Roman  Catholic  he  never  was ;  but  he  and  his 
brother  were  the  only  loyalists  in  the  House  of 
Howard.  Arundel  and  the  rest  of  his  kindred  were 
all  that  Parsons  claimed  for  them.  How  the  country 
levies  would  have  behaved  had  Parma  landed  is  still 
uncertain.  It  is  likely  that  if  the  Spanish  army  had 
gained  a  first  success,  there  might  have  been  some 
who  would  have  behaved   as  Sir  William   Stanley 


Parties  in  the  State  117 

did.  It  is  observable  that  Parsons  mentions  Leices- 
ter and  Huntingdon  as  the  only  powerful  peers  on 
whom  the  Queen  could  rely,  and  Leicester,  other- 
wise the  unfittest  man  in  her  dominions,  she  chose 
to  command  her  land  army. 

The  Duke  of  Alva  and  his  master  Philip,  both  of 
them  distrusted  political  priests.  Political  priests, 
they  said,  did  not  understand  the  facts  of  things. 
Theological  enthusiasm  made  them  credulous  of 
what  they  wished.  But  Father  Parsons's  estimate 
is  confirmed  in  all  its  parts  by  the  letters  of  Men- 
doza,  the  Spanish  ambassador  in  London.  Men- 
doza  was  himself  a  soldier,  and  his  first  duty  was 
to  learn  the  real  truth.  It  may  be  taken  as  certain 
that,  with  the  Queen  of  Scots  still  alive  to  succeed 
to  the  throne,  at  the  time  of  the  scene  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  with  which  I  began  this  lecture,  the 
great  majority  of  the  country  party  disliked  the  Re- 
formers, and  were  looking  forward  to  the  accession 
of  a  Catholic  sovereign,  and  as  a  consequence  to  a 
religious  revolution. 

It  explains  the  difficulty  of  Elizabeth's  position 
and  the  inconsistency  of  her  political  action. 
Burghley,  Walsingham,  Mildmay,  KnoUes,  the  elder 
Bacon,  were  believing  Protestants,  and  would  have 
had  her  put  herself  openly  at  the  head  of  a  Protest- 
ant European  league.  They  believed  that  right  and 
justice  were  on  their  side,  that  their  side  was  God's 
cause,  as  they  called  it,  and  that  God  would  care 
for  it.  Elizabeth  had  no  such  complete  conviction. 
She   disliked   dogmatism,    Protestant    as    well    as 


118    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Catholic.  She  ridiculed  Mr.  Cecil  and  his  brothers 
in  Christ.  She  thought,  like  Erasmus,  that  the  ar- 
ticles of  faith,  for  which  men  were  so  eager  to  kill 
one  another,  were  subjects  which  they  knew  very 
little  about,  and  that  every  man  might  think  what 
he  would  on  such  matters  without  injury  to  the  com- 
monwealth. To  become  '  head  of  the  name '  would 
involve  open  war  with  the  Catholic  powers.  War 
meant  war  taxes,  which  more  than  half  her  subjects 
would  resent  and  resist.  Religion  as  she  understood 
it  was  a  development  of  law — the  law  of  moral  con- 
duct. You  could  not  have  two  laws  in  one  coun- 
try, and  you  could  not  have  two  religions ;  but  the 
outward  form  mattered  comparatively  little.  The 
people  she  ruled  over  were  divided  about  these 
forms.  They  were  mainly  fools,  and  if  she  let  them 
each  have  chapels  and  churches  of  their  own,  mole- 
hills would  become  mountains,  and  the  congregations 
would  go  from  arguing  into  fighting.  With  Parlia- 
ment to  help  her,  therefore,  she  established  a  Lit- 
urgy, in  which  those  who  wished  to  find  the  Mass 
could  hear  the  Mass,  while  those  who  wanted  pre- 
destination and  justification  by  faith  could  find  it  in 
the  Articles.  Both  could  meet  under  a  common 
roof,  and  use  a  common  service,  if  they  would  only 
be  reasonable.  If  they  would  not  be  reasonable,  the 
Catholics  might  have  their  own  ritual  in  their  own 
houses,  and  would  not  be  interfered  with. 

This  system  continued  for  the  first  eleven  years 
of  Elizabeth's  reign.  No  Catholic,  she  could 
proudly  say,  had  ever  during  that  time  been  mo- 


Parties  in  the  State  119 

lested  for  his  belief.  There  was  a  small  fine  for 
non-attendance  at  church,  but  even  this  was  rarely 
levied,  and  by  the  confession  of  the  Jesuits  the 
Queen's  poHcy  was  succeeding  too  well.  Sensible 
men  began  to  see  that  the  differences  of  religion 
were  not  things  to  quarrel  over.  Faith  was  grow- 
ing languid.  The  elder  generation,  who  had  lived 
through  the  Edward  and  Mary  revolutions,  were 
satisfied  to  be  left  undisturbed  ;  a  new  generation 
was  growing  up,  with  new  ideas ;  and  so  the  Church 
of  Rome  bestirred  itself.  Elizabeth  was  excommu- 
nicated. The  cycle  began  of  intrigue  and  conspiracy, 
assassination  plots,  and  Jesuit  invasions.  Punish- 
ments had  to  f oUow,  and  in  spite  of  herself  Eliza- 
beth was  driven  into  what  the  CathoHcs  could  call 
religious  persecution.  Religious  it  was  not,  for  the 
seminary  priests  were  missionaries  of  treason.  But 
religious  it  was  made  to  appear.  The  English 
gentleman  who  wished  to  remain  loyal,  without 
forfeiting  his  faith,  was  taught  to  see  that  a  sov- 
ereign under  the  Papal  curse  had  no  longer  a  claim 
on  his  allegiance.  If  he  disobeyed  the  Pope,  he 
had  ceased  to  be  a  member  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 
The  Papal  party  grew  in  coherence,  while,  opposed 
to  them  as  their  purpose  came  in  view,  the  Prot- 
estants, who  at  first  had  been  inclined  to  Lutheran- 
ism,  adopted  the  deeper  and  sterner  creed  of  Calvin 
and  Geneva.  The  memories  of  the  Marian  cruelties 
rcAdved  again.  They  saw  themselves  threatened 
with  a  return  to  stake  and  fagot.  They  closed  their 
ranks  and  resolved  to  die  rather  than  submit  again 


120    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

to  Antichrist.  They  might  be  inferior  in  numbers. 
A  plebiscite  in  England  at  that  moment  would  have 
sent  Burghley  and  Walsingham  to  the  scaffold. 
But  the  Lord  could  save  by  few  as  well  as  by  many. 
Judah  had  but  two  tribes  out  of  the  twelve,  but  the 
words  of  the  men  of  Judah  were  fiercer  than  the 
words  of  Israel. 

One  great  mistake  had  been  made  by  Parsons. 
He  could  not  estimate  what  he  could  not  under- 
stand. He  admitted  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
towns  were  mainly  heretic — London,  Bristol,  Ply- 
mouth, and  the  rest — but  he  despised  them  as 
merchants,  craftsmen,  mean  persons  who  had  no 
heart  to  fight  in  them.  Nothing  is  more  remarkable 
in  the  history  of  the  sixteenth  century  than  the 
effect  of  Calvinism  in  levelling  distinctions  of  rank 
and  in  steeling  and  ennobling  the  character  of 
common  men.  In  Scotland,  in  the  Low  Countries, 
in  France,  there  was  the  same  phenomenon.  In 
Scotland,  the  Kirk  was  the  creation  of  the  preachers 
and  the  people,  and  peasants  and  workmen  dared 
to  stand  in  the  field  against  belted  knights  and 
barons,  who  had  trampled  on  their  fathers  for 
centuries.  The  artisans  of  the  Low  Countries  had 
for  twenty  years  defied  the  whole  power  of  Spain. 
The  Huguenots  were  not  a  fifth  part  of  the  French 
nation,  yet  defeat  could  never  dishearten  them. 
Again  and  again  they  forced  crown  and  nobles  to 
make  terms  with  them.  It  was  the  same  in  England. 
The  allegiance  to  their  feudal  leaders  dissolved  into 
a  higher   obligation   to   the  King  of  kings,  whose 


Parties  in  the  State  121 

elect  they  believed  themselves  to  be.  Election  to 
them  was  not  a  theological  phantasm,  but  an  enlist- 
ment in  the  army  of  God.  A  little  flock  they 
might  be,  but  they  were  a  dangerous  people  to  deal 
with,  most  of  all  in  the  towns  of  the  sea.  The  sea 
was  the  element  of  the  Reformers.  The  Popes  had 
no  jurisdiction  over  the  winds  and  waves.  Rochelle 
was  the  citadel  of  the  Huguenots.  The  English 
merchants  and  mariners  had  wrongs  of  their  own, 
perpetually  renewed,  which  fed  the  bitterness  of 
their  indignation.  Touch  where  they  would  in 
Spanish  ports,  the  inquisitor's  hand  was  on  their 
ships'  crews,  and  the  crews,  unless  they  denied 
their  faith,  were  handed  over  to  the  stake  or  the 
galleys.  The  Calvinists  are  accused  of  intolerance. 
I  fancy  that  even  in  these  humane  and  enlightened 
days  we  should  not  be  very  tolerant  if  the  King  of 
Dahomey  were  to  bum  every  European  visitor  to 
his  dominions  who  would  not  worship  Mumbo 
Jumbo.  The  Duke  of  Alva  was  not  very  merciful 
to  heretics,  but  he  tried  to  bridle  the  zeal  of  the 
Holy  Office  in  burning  the  English  seamen.  Even 
Philip  himself  remonstrated.  It  was  to  no  purpose. 
The  Holy  Office  said  they  would  think  about  it,  but 
concluded  to  go  on.  I  am  not  the  least  surprised 
if  the  English  seamen  were  intolerant.  I  should  be 
very  much  surprised  if  they  had  not  been.  The 
Queen  could  not  protect  them.  They  had  to  pro- 
tect themselves  as  they  could,  and  make  Spanish 
vessels,  when  they  could  catch  them,  pay  for  the 
iniquities  of  their  rulers. 


122    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

With  such  a  temper  rising  on  both  sides,  Eliza- 
beth's policy  had  but  a  poor  chance.  She  still 
hoped  that  the  better  sense  of  mankind  would  keep 
the  doctrinal  enthusiasts  in  order.  Elizabeth 
wished  her  subjects  would  be  content  to  live  to- 
gether in  unity  of  spirit,  if  not  in  unity  of  theory,  in 
the  bond  of  peace,  not  hatred,  in  righteousness  of 
life,  not  in  orthodoxy  preached  by  stake  and  gib- 
bet. She  was  content  to  wait  and  persevere.  She 
refused  to  declare  war.  War  would  tear  the  world  in 
pieces.  She  knew  her  danger.  She  knew  that  she 
was  in  constant  peril  of  assassination.  She  knew 
that  if  the  Protestants  were  crushed  in  Scotland,  in 
France,  and  in  the  Low  Countries,  her  own  turn 
would  follow.  To  protect  insurgents  avowedly 
would  be  to  justify  insurrection  against  herself.  But 
what  she  would  not  do  openly  she  would  do  secretly. 
What  she  would  not  do  herself  she  let  her  subjects 
do.  Thousands  of  English  volunteers  fought  in 
Flanders  for  the  States,  and  in  France  for  the  Hu- 
guenots. When  the  English  Treasury  was  shut  to 
the  entreaties  of  Coligny  or  William  of  Orange  the 
London  citizens  untied  their  purse-strings.  Her 
friends  in  Scotland  fared  ill.  They  were  encour- 
aged by  promises  which  were  not  observed,  because 
to  observe  them  might  bring  on  war.  They  com- 
mitted themselves  for  her  sake.  They  fell  one  after 
another — Murray,  Morton,  Gowrie  —  into  bloody 
graves.  Others  took  their  places  and  struggled  on. 
The  Scotch  Reformation  was  saved.  Scotland  was 
not  allowed  to  open  its  arms  to  an  invading  army 


Parties  in  the  State  123 

to  strike  England  across  the  Border.  But  this  was 
held  to  be  their  sufficient  recompense.  They  cared 
for  their  cause  as  well  as  for  the  English  Queen,  and 
they  had  their  reward.  If  they  saved  her  they 
saved  their  own  country.  She  too  did  not  lie  on  a 
bed  of  roses.  To  prevent  open  war  she  was  expos- 
ing her  own  life  to  the  assassin.  At  any  moment  a 
pistol-shot  or  a  stab  with  a  dagger  might  add  Eliza- 
beth to  the  list  of  victims.  She  knew  it,  yet  she 
went  on  upon  her  own  policy,  and  faced  in  her  per- 
son her  own  share  of  the  risk.  One  thing  only  she 
did.  If  she  would  not  defend  her  friends  and  her 
subjects  as  Queen  of  England,  she  left  them  free 
to  defend  themselves.  She  allowed  traitors  to  be 
hanged  when  they  were  caught  at  their  work.  She 
allowed  the  merchants  to  fit  out  their  privateer 
fleets,  to  defend  at  their  own  cost  the  shores  of 
England,  and  to  teach  the  Spaniards  to  fear  their 
vengeance. 

But  how  long  was  all  this  to  last?  How  long 
were  loyal  citizens  to  feel  that  they  were  living  over 
a  loaded  mine — throughout  their  own  country, 
throughout  the  Continent,  at  Rome  and  at  Madrid, 
at  Brussels  and  at  Paris,  a  legion  of  conspirators 
were  driving  their  shafts  under  the  English  com- 
monwealth. The  Queen  might  be  indiflferent  to  her 
own  danger,  but  on  the  Queen's  life  hung  the  peace 
of  the  whole  realm.  A  stroke  of  a  poniard,  a  touch 
of  a  trigger,  and  swords  would  be  flying  from  their 
scabbards  in  every  county ;  England  would  become, 
like  France,  one  wild   scene   of  anarchy  and  civil 


124    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

war.  No  successor  had  been  named.  The  Queen 
refused  to  hear  a  successor  declared.  Mary  Stuart's 
hand  had  been  in  every  plot  since  she  crossed  the 
Border.  Twice  the  House  of  Commons  had  peti- 
tioned for  her  execution.  Elizabeth  would  neither 
touch  her  life  nor  allow  her  hopes  of  the  crown  to 
be  taken  from  her.  The  Bond  of  Association  was 
but  a  remedy  of  despair,  and  the  Act  of  Parliament 
would  have  passed  for  little  in  the  tempest  which 
would  immediately  rise.  The  agony  reached  a 
height  when  the  fatal  news  came  from  the  Nether- 
lands that  there  at  last  assassination  had  done  its 
work.  The  Prince  of  Orange,  after  many  failures, 
had  been  finished,  and  a  libel  was  found  in  the  Pal- 
ace at  Westminster  exhorting  the  ladies  of  the 
household  to  provide  a  Judith  among  themselves  to 
rid  the  world  of  the  English  Holofernes. 

One  part  of  Elizabeth's  subjects,  at  any  rate,  were 
not  disposed  to  sit  down  in  patience  under  the  eter- 
nal nightmare.  From  Spain  was  to  come  the  army 
of  deliverance  for  which  the  Jesuits  were  so  passion- 
ately longing.  To  the  Spaniards  the  Pope  was 
looking  for  the  execution  of  the  Bull  of  Deposition. 
Father  Parsons  had  left  out  of  his  estimate  the 
Protestant  adventurers  of  London  and  Plymouth, 
who,  besides  their  creed  and  their  patriotism,  had 
their  private  wrongs  to  revenge.  Philip  might  talk 
of  peace,  and  perhaps  in  weariness  might  at  times 
seriously  wish  for  it ;  but  between  the  Englishmen 
whose  life  was  on  the  ocean  and  the  Spanish  In- 
quisition, which  had  burned  so  many  of  them,  there 


Parties  in  the  State  125 

was  no  peace  possible.  To  them,  Spain  was  the 
natural  enemy.  Among  the  daring  spirits  who  had 
sailed  with  Drake  round  the  globe,  who  had  waylaid 
the  Spanish  gold  ships,  and  startled  the  world  with 
their  exploits,  the  joy  of  whose  lives  had  been  to 
fight  Spaniards  wherever  they  could  meet  with  them, 
there  was  but  one  wish — for  an  honest  open  war. 
The  great  galleons  were  to  them  no  objects  of  ter- 
ror. The  Spanish  naval  power  seemed  to  them  a 
'Colossus  stuffed  with  clouts.'  They  were  Protes- 
tants all  of  them,  but  their  theology  was  rather  prac- 
tical than  speculative.  If  Italians  and  Spaniards 
chose  to  believe  in  the  Mass,  it  was  not  any  affair 
of  theirs.  Their  quarrel  was  with  the  insolent  pre- 
tence of  Catholics  to  force  their  creed  on  others 
with  sword  and  cannon.  The  spirit  which  was 
working  in  them  was  the  genius  of  freedom.  On 
their  own  element  they  felt  that  they  could  be  the 
spiritual  tyrants'  masters.  But  as  things  were  go- 
ing, rebellion  was  Kkely  to  break  out  at  home ;  their 
homesteads  might  be  burning,  their  country  over- 
run with  the  Prince  of  Parma's  army,  the  Inquisition 
at  their  own  doors,  and  a  Catholic  sovereign  bring- 
ing back  the  fagots  of  Smithfield. 

The  Reformation  at  its  origin  was  no  introduction 
of  novel  heresies.  It  was  a  revolt  of  the  laity  of 
Europe  against  the  profligacy  and  avarice  of  the 
clergy.  The  popes  and  cardinals  pretended  to  be 
the  representatives  of  Heaven.  When  called  to 
account  for  abuse  of  their  powers,  they  had  behaved 
precisely  as  mere  corrupt  human  kings  and  aristoc- 


126    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

racies  behave.  They  had  intrigued ;  they  had  ex- 
communicated ;  they  had  set  nation  against  nation, 
sovereigns  against  their  subjects ;  they  had  en- 
couraged assassination ;  they  had  made  themselves 
infamous  by  horrid  massacres,  and  had  taught  one 
half  of  foolish  Christendom  to  hate  the  other.  The 
hearts  of  the  poor  English  seamen  whose  comrades 
had  been  burnt  at  Seville  to  make  a  Spanish  holi- 
day, thrilled  with  a  sacred  determination  to  end 
such  scenes.  The  purpose  that  was  in  them  broke 
into  a  wild  war-music,  as  the  wind  harp  swells  and 
screams  under  the  breath  of  the  storm.  I  found  in 
the  Record  Office  an  unsigned  letter  of  some  inspired 
old  sea-dog,  written  in  a  bold  round  hand  and 
addressed  to  Elizabeth.  The  ships'  companies 
which  in  summer  served  in  Philip's  men-of-war 
went  in  winter  in  thousands  to  catch  cod  on  the 
Banks  of  Newfoundland.  *  Give  me  five  vessels,' 
the  writer  said,  *  and  I  will  go  out  and  sink  them  all, 
and  the  galleons  shall  rot  in  Cadiz  Harbour  for 
want  of  hands  to  sail  them.  But  decide.  Madam, 
and  decide  quickly.  Time  flies,  and  will  not  return. 
The  wings  of  man's  life  are  plumed  ivith  the  feathers 
of  death.' 

The  Queen  did  not  decide.  The  five  ships  were 
not  sent,  and  the  poor  Castilian  sailors  caught  their 
cod  in  peace.  But  in  spite  of  herself  Elizabeth 
was  driven  forward  by  the  tendencies  of  things. 
The  death  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  left  the  States 
without  a  Government.  The  Prince  of  Parma  was 
pressing  them  hard.     Without  a  leader  they  were 


Parties  in  the  State  127 

lost.  They  oflfered  themselves  to  Elizabeth,  to  be 
incorporated  in  the  English  Empire.  They  said 
that  if  she  refused  they  must  either  submit  to  Spain 
or  become  provinces  of  France.  The  Netherlands, 
whether  Spanish  or  French,  would  be  equally  dan- 
gerous to  England.  The  Netherlands  once  brought 
back  under  the  Pope,  England's  turn  would  come 
next ;  while  to  accept  the  proposal  meant  instant  and 
desperate  war,  both  with  France  and  Spain  too — 
for  France  would  never  allow  England  again  to  gain 
a  foot  on  the  Continent.  Elizabeth  knew  not  what 
to  do.  She  would  and  she  would  not.  She  did  not 
accept ;  she  did  not  refuse.  It  was  neither  No  nor 
Yes.  Philip,  who  was  as  fond  of  indirect  ways  as 
herself,  proposed  to  quicken  her  irresolution. 

The  harvest  had  failed  in  Galicia,  and  the  popu- 
lation were  starving.  England  grew  more  com  than 
she  wanted,  and,  under  a  special  promise  that  the 
crews  should  not  be  molested,  a  fleet  of  corn-traders 
had  gone  with  cargoes  of  grain  to  Coruna,  Bilbao, 
and  Santander.  The  King  of  Spain,  on  hearing 
that  Elizabeth  was  treating  with  the  States,  issued 
a  sudden  order  to  seize  the  vessels,  confiscate  the 
cargoes,  and  imprison  the  men.  The  order  was 
executed.  One  English  ship  only  was  lucky  enough 
to  escape  by  the  adroitness  of  her  commander. 
The  Primrose,  of  London,  lay  in  Bilbao  Roads  with 
a  captain  and  fifteen  hands.  The  mayor,  on  receiv- 
ing the  order,  came  on  board  to  look  over  the  ship. 
He  then  went  on  shore  for  a  sufficient  force  to  carry 
out  the  seizure.     After  he  was  gone  the  captain 


128    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

heard  of  the  fate  which  was  intended  for  him. 
The  mayor  returned  with  two  boatloads  of  soldiers, 
stepped  up  the  ladder,  touched  the  captain  on  the 
shoulder,  and  told  him  he  was  a  prisoner.  The 
Englishmen  snatched  pike  and  cutlass,  pistol  and 
battle-axe,  killed  seven  or  eight  of  the  Spanish 
boarders,  threw  the  rest  overboard,  and  flung  stones 
on  them  as  they  scrambled  into  their  boats.  The 
mayor,  who  had  fallen  into  the  sea,  caught  a  rope 
and  was  hauled  up  when  the  fight  was  over.  The 
cable  was  cut,  the  sails  hoisted,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  Primrose  was  under  way  for  England,  with  the 
mayor  of  Bilbao  below  the  hatches.  No  second 
vessel  got  away.  If  Philip  had  meant  to  frighten 
Elizabeth  he  could  not  have  taken  a  worse  means  of 
doing  it,  for  he  had  exasperated  that  particular  part 
of  the  English  population  which  was  least  afraid  of 
him.  He  had  broken  faith  besides,  and  had  seized 
some  hundreds  of  merchants  and  sailors  who  had 
gone  merely  to  relieve  Spanish  distress.  Elizabeth, 
as  usual,  would  not  act  herself.  She  sent  no  ships 
from  her  own  navy  to  demand  reparation  ;  but  she 
gave  the  adventurers  a  free  hand.  The  London 
and  Plymouth  citizens  determined  to  read  Spain  a 
lesson  which  should  make  an  impression.  They 
had  the  worst  fears  for  the  fate  of  the  prisoners  ; 
but  if  they  could  not  save,  they  could  avenge  them. 
Sir  Francis  Drake,  who  wished  for  nothing  better 
than  to  be  at  work  again,  volunteered  his  services, 
and  a  fleet  was  collected  at  Plymouth  of  twenty- 
five  sail,  every  one  of  them  fitted  out  by  private  en- 


Parties  in  the  State  129 

terprise.  No  finer  armament,  certainly  no  better- 
equipped  armament,  ever  left  the  English  shores. 
The  expenses  were,  of  course,  enormous.  Of  sea- 
men and  soldiers  there  were  between  two  and  three 
thousand.  Drake's  name  was  worth  an  army.  The 
cost  was  to  be  recovered  out  of  the  expedition 
somehow ;  the  Spaniards  were  to  be  made  to  pay 
for  it ;  but  how  or  when  was  left  to  Drake's  judg- 
ment. This  time  there  was  no  second  in  command 
sent  by  the  friends  of  Spain  to  hang  upon  his  arm. 
By  universal  consent  he  had  the  absolute  command. 
His  instructions  were  merely  to  inquire  at  Spanish 
ports  into  the  meaning  of  the  arrest.  Beyond  that 
he  was  left  to  go  where  he  pleased  and  do  what  he 
pleased  on  his  own  responsibility.  The  Queen  said 
frankly  that  if  it  proved  convenient  she  intended  to 
disown  him.  Drake  had  no  objection  to  being  dis- 
owned, so  he  could  teach  the  Spaniards  to  be  more 
careful  how  they  handled  Englishmen.  What  came 
of  it  will  be  the  subject  of  the  next  lecture.  Father 
Parsons  said  the  Protestant  traders  of  England  had 
grown  effeminate  and  dared  not  fight.  In  the  ashes 
of  their  own  smoking  cities  the  Spaniards  had  to 
learn  that  Father  Parsons  had  misread  his  country- 
men. If  Drake  had  been  given  to  heroics  he  might 
have  left  Virgil's  lines  inscribed  above  the  broken 
arms  of  Castile  at  St.  Domingo : 

En  ego  yicta  situ  quam  veri  effeta  senectus 
Arma  inter  regam  falsa  formidine  ludit: 
Bespice  ad  h»c. 


LECTUEE  VI 

THE  GREAT  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  WEST  INDIES 

Queen  Elizabeth  and  her  brother-in-law  of  Spain 
were  reluctant  champions  of  opposing  principles. 
In  themselves  they  had  no  wish  to  quarrel,  but 
each  was  driven  forward  by  fate  and  circumstance 
—  Philip  by  the  genius  of  the  Catholic  religion, 
Elizabeth  by  the  enthusiasts  for  freedom  and  by 
the  advice  of  statesmen  who  saw  no  safety  for  her 
except  in  daring.  Both  wished  for  peace,  and 
refused  to  see  that  peace  was  impossible ;  but  both 
were  compelled  to  yield  to  their  subjects'  eagerness. 
Philip  had  to  threaten  England  with  invasion ; 
Elizabeth  had  to  show  Philip  that  England  had  a 
long  arm,  which  Spanish  wisdom  would  do  well  to 
fear.  It  was  a  singular  position.  Philip  had  out- 
raged orthodoxy  and  dared  the  anger  of  Eome  by 
maintaining  an  ambassador  at  Elizabeth's  Court 
after  her  excommunication.  He  had  laboured  for 
a  reconciliation  with  a  sincerity  which  his  secret 
letters  make  it  impossible  to  doubt.  He  had  con- 
descended even  to  sue  for  it,  in  spite  of  Drake  and 
the  voyage  of  the  Pelican ;  yet  he  had  helped  the 
Pope  to  set  Ireland  in  a  flame.  He  had  encouraged 
Elizabeth's  Catholic  subjects  in  conspiracy  after 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies    131 

conspiracy.  He  had  approved  of  attempts  to  dis- 
pose of  her  as  he  had  disposed  of  the  Prince  of 
Orange.  Elizabeth  had  retaliated,  though  with  half 
a  heart,  by  letting  her  soldiers  volunteer  into  the 
service  of  the  revolted  Netherlands,  by  permitting 
English  privateers  to  plunder  the  Spanish  colonies, 
seize  the  gold  ships,  and  revenge  their  own  wrongs. 
Each,  perhaps,  had  wished  to  show  the  other  what 
an  open  war  would  cost  them  both,  and  each  drew 
back  when  war  appeared  inevitable. 

Events  went  their  way.  Holland  and  Zeeland, 
driven  to  extremity,  had  petitioned  for  incorpora- 
tion with  England ;  as  a  counter-stroke  and  a  warn- 
ing, Philip  had  arrested  the  English  com  ships 
and  imprisoned  the  owners  and  the  crews.  Her 
own  fleet  was  nothing.  The  safety  of  the  English 
shores  depended  on  the  spirit  of  the  adventurers, 
and  she  could  not  afford  to  check  the  anger  with 
which  the  news  was  received.  To  accept  the  offer 
of  the  States  was  war,  and  war  she  would  not  have. 
Herself,  she  would  not  act  at  all ;  but  in  her  usual 
way  she  might  let  her  subjects  act  for  themselves, 
and  plead,  as  Philip  pleaded  in  excuse  for  the  In- 
quisition, that  she  could  not  restrain  them.  And 
thus  it  was  that  in  September  1585,  Sir  Francis 
Drake  found  himself  with  a  fleet  of  twenty-five 
privateers  and  2,500  men  who  had  volunteered  to 
serve  with  him  under  his  own  command.  He  had 
no  distinct  commission.  The  expedition  had  been 
fitted  out  as  a  private  undertaking.  Neither  officers 
nor  crews  had  been  engaged  for  the  service  of  tho 


132    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Crown.  They  received  no  wages.  In  the  eye  of 
the  law  they  were  pirates.  They  were  going  on 
their  own  account  to  read  the  King  of  Spain  a 
necessary  lesson  and  pay  their  expenses  at  the 
King  of  Spain's  cost.  Young  Protestant  England 
had  taken  fire.  The  name  of  Drake  set  every 
Protestant  heart  burning,  and  hundreds  of  gallant 
gentlemen  had  pressed  in  to  join.  A  grandson  of 
Burghley  had  come,  and  Edward  Winter  the 
Admiral's  son,  and  Francis  KnoUes  the  Queen's 
cousin,  and  Martin  Frobisher,  and  Christopher  Car- 
lile.  Philip  Sidney  had  wished  to  make  one  also 
in  the  glory;  but  Philip  Sidney  was  needed  else- 
where. The  Queen's  consent  had  been  won  from 
her  at  a  bold  interval  in  her  shifting  moods.  The 
hot  fit  might  pass  away,  and  Burghley  sent  Drake  a 
hint  to  be  off  before  her  humour  changed.  No  word 
was  said.  On  the  morning  of  the  14:th  of  September 
the  signal  flag  was  flying  from  Drake's  maintop 
to  up  anchor  and  away.  Drake,  as  he  admitted 
after,  *  was  not  the  most  assured  of  her  Majesty's 
perseverance  to  let  them  go  forward.'  Past  Ushant 
he  would  be  beyond  reach  of  recall.  With  light 
winds  and  calms  they  drifted  across  the  bay.  They 
fell  in  with  a  few  Frenchmen  homeward-bound  from 
the  Banks,  and  let  them  pass  uninjured.  A  large 
Spanish  ship  which  they  met  next  day,  loaded  with 
excellent  fresh  salt  fish,  was  counted  lawful  prize. 
The  fish  was  new  and  good,  and  was  distributed 
through  the  fleet.  Standing  leisurely  on,  they 
cleared  Finisterre  and  came  up  with  the  Isles  of 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies     133 

Bayona,  at  the  mouth  of  Vigo  Harbour.  They 
dropped  anchor  there,  and  *  it  was  a  great  matter 
and  a  royal  sight  to  see  them.'  The  Spanish  Gov- 
ernor, Don  Pedro  Bemadero,  sent  off  with  some 
astonishment  to  know  who  and  what  they  were. 
Drake  answered  with  a  question  whether  England 
and  Spain  were  at  war,  and  if  not  why  the  English 
merchants  had  been  arrested.  Don  Pedro  could  but 
say  that  he  knew  of  no  war,  and  for  the  merchants 
an  order  had  come  for  their  release.  For  reply 
Drake  landed  part  of  his  force  on  the  islands,  and 
Don  Pedro,  not  knowing  what  to  make  of  such 
visitors,  found  it  best  to  propitiate  them  with  cart- 
loads of  wine  and  fruit.  The  weather,  which  had 
been  hitherto  fine,  showed  signs  of  change.  The 
wind  rose,  and  the  sea  with  it.  The  anchorage  was 
exposed,  and  Drake  sent  Christopher  Carlile  with 
one  of  his  ships  and  a  few  pinnaces,  up  the  harbour 
to  look  out  for  better  shelter.  Their  appearance 
created  a  panic  in  the  town.  The  alarmed  inhabi- 
tants took  to  their  boats,  carrying  off  their  property 
and  their  Church  plate.  Carlile,  who  had  a  Cal- 
vinistic  objection  to  idolatry,  took  the  liberty  of 
detaining  part  of  these  treasures.  From  one  boat 
he  took  a  massive  silver  cross  belonging  to  the 
High  Church  at  Vigo;  from  another  an  image  of 
Our  Lady,  which  the  sailors  relieved  of  her  clothes 
and  were  said,  when  she  was  stripped,  to  have 
treated  with  some  indignity.  Carlile's  report  being 
satisfactory,  the  whole  fleet  was  brought  the  next 
day  up  the  harbour  and  moored  above  the  town. 


134    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Cerdury 

The  news  had  by  this  time  spread  into  the  country. 
The  Governor  of  Galicia  came  down  with  all  the 
force  which  he  could  collect  in  a  hurry.  Perhaps  he 
was  in  time  to  save  Vigo  itself.  Perhaps  Drake, 
having  other  aims  in  view,  did  not  care  to  be  de- 
tained over  a  smaller  object.  The  Governor,  at  any 
rate,  saw  that  the  English  were  too  strong  for  him 
to  meddle  with.  The  best  that  he  could  look  for  was 
to  persuade  them  to  go  away  on  the  easiest  terms. 
Drake  and  he  met  in  boats  for  a  parley.  Drake 
wanted  water  and  fresh  provisions.  Drake  was  to 
to  be  allowed  to  furnish  himself  undisturbed.  He 
had  secured  what  he  most  wanted.  He  had  shown 
the  King  of  Spain  that  he  was  not  invulnerable  in 
his  own  home  dominion,  and  he  sailed  away  unmo- 
lested. Madrid  was  in  consternation.  That  the 
English  could  dare  insult  the  first  prince  in  Europe 
on  the  sacred  soil  of  the  Peninsula  itself  seemed  like 
a  dream.  The  Council  of  State  sat  for  three  days 
considering  the  meaning  of  it.  Drake's  name  was 
already  familiar  in  Spanish  ears.  It  was  not  con- 
ceivable that  he  had  come  only  to  inquire  after  the 
arrested  ships  and  seamen.  But  what  could  the 
English  Queen  be  about  ?  Did  she  not  know  that 
she  existed  only  by  the  forbearance  of  Philip  ? 
Did  she  know  the  King  of  Spain's  force  ?  Did  not 
she  and  her  people  quake  ?  Little  England,  it  was 
said  by  some  of  these  councillors,  was  to  be  swal- 
lowed at  a  mouthful  by  the  King  of  half  the  world. 
The  old  Admiral  Santa  Cruz  was  less  confident 
about  the  swallowing.     He  observed  that  England 


The  Greed  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies     135 

had  many  teeth,  and  that  instead  of  boasting  of 
Spanish  greatness  it  would  be  better  to  provide 
against  what  she  might  do  with  them.  Till  now  the 
corsairs  had  appeared  only  in  twos  and  threes. 
"With  such  a  fleet  behind  him  Drake  might  go  where 
he  pleased.  He  might  be  going  to  the  South  Seas 
again.  He  might  take  Madeira  if  he  liked,  or  the 
Canary  Islands.  Santa  Cruz  himself  thought  he 
would  make  for  the  West  Indies  and  Panama,  and 
advised  the  sending  out  there  instantly  every  availa- 
ble ship  that  they  had. 

The  gold  fleet  was  Drake's  real  object.  He  had 
information  that  it  would  be  on  its  way  to  Spain 
by  the  Cape  de  Verde  Islands,  and  he  had  learnt 
the  time  when  it  was  to  be  expected.  From  Vigo 
he  sailed  for  the  Canaries,  looked  in  at  Palma,  with 
'intention  to  have  taken  our  pleasure  there,'  but 
found  the  landing  dangerous  and  the  town  itself  not 
worth  the  risk.  He  ran  on  to  the  Cape  de  Verde 
Islands.  He  had  measured  his  time  too  narrowly. 
The  gold  fleet  had  arrived  and  had  gone.  He  had 
missed  it  by  twelve  hours,  '  the  reason,'  as  he  said 
with  a  sigh,  *  best  known  to  God.'  The  chance  of 
prize  money  was  lost,  but  the  political  purpose  of 
the  expedition  could  still  be  completed.  The  Cape 
de  Verde  Islands  could  not  sail  away,  and  a  begin- 
ning could  be  made  with  Sant  lago.  Sant  lago 
was  a  thriving,  well-populated  town,  and  down  in 
Drake's  book  as  specially  needing  notice,  some 
Plymouth  sailors  having  been  recently  murdered 
there.      Christopher    Carlile,    always    handy    and 


136    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

trustworthy,  was  put  on  shore  with  a  thousand  men 
to  attack  the  place  on  the  undefended  side.  The 
Spanish  commander,  the  bishop,  and  most  of  the 
people  fled,  as  at  Vigo,  into  the  mountains  with 
their  plate  and  money.  Carlile  entered  without 
opposition,  and  flew  St.  George's  Cross  from  the 
castle  as  a  signal  to  the  fleet.  Drake  came  in, 
landed  the  rest  of  his  force,  and  took  possession. 
It  happened  to  be  the  17th  of  November — the  anni- 
versary of  the  Queen's  accession — and  ships  and 
batteries,  dressed  out  with  English  flags,  celebrated 
the  occasion  with  salvoes  of  cannon.  Houses  and 
magazines  were  then  searched  and  plundered. 
Wine  was  found  in  large  quantities,  rich  merchan- 
dise for  the  Indian  trade,  and  other  valuables.  Of 
gold  and  silver  nothing — it  had  all  been  removed. 
Drake  waited  for  a  fortnight,  hoping  that  the  Span- 
iards would  treat  for  the  ransom  of  the  city.  When 
they  made  no  sign,  he  marched  twelve  miles  inland 
to  a  village  where  the  Governor  and  the  Bishop  were 
said  to  have  taken  refuge.  But  the  village  was 
found  deserted.  The  Spaniards  had  gone  to  the 
mountains,  where  it  was  useless  to  follow  them,  and 
were  too  proud  to  bargain  with  a  pirate  chief.  Sant 
lago  was  a  beautifully  built  city,  and  Drake  would 
perhaps  have  spared  it ;  but  a  ship-boy  who  had 
strayed  was  found  murdered  and  barbarously  mu- 
tilated. The  order  was  given  to  bum.  Houses, 
magazines,  churches,  public  buildings  were  turned 
to  ashes,  and  the  work  being  finished  Drake  went 
on,  as  Santa  Cruz  expected,  for  the  Spanish  Wert 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies     137 

Indies.  The  Spaniards  were  magnificent  in  all  that 
they  did  and  touched.  They  built  their  cities  in 
their  new  possessions  on  the  most  splendid  models 
of  the  Old  World.  St.  Domingo  and  Carthagena 
had  their  castles  and  cathedrals,  palaces,  squares, 
and  streets,  grand  and  solid  as  those  at  Cadiz  and 
Seville,  and  raised  as  enduring  monuments  of  the 
power  and  greatness  of  the  Castilian  monarchs.  To 
these  Drake  meant  to  pay  a  visit.  Beyond  them 
was  the  Isthmus,  where  he  had  made  his  first  fame 
and  fortune,  with  Panama  behind,  the  depot  of  the 
Indian  treasure.  So  far  all  had  gone  well  with  him. 
He  had  taken  what  he  wanted  out  of  Vigo ;  he  had 
destroyed  Sant  lago  and  had  not  lost  a  man.  Un- 
fortunately he  had  now  a  worse  enemy  to  deal  with 
than  Spanish  galleons  or  Spanish  garrisons.  He 
was  in  the  heat  of  the  tropics.  Yellow  fever  broke 
out  and  spread  through  the  fleet.  Of  those  who 
caught  the  infection  few  recovered,  or  recovered 
only  to  be  the  wrecks  of  themselves.  It  was  swift 
in  its  work.  In  a  few  days  more  than  two  hundred 
had  died.  But  the  north-east  trade  blew  merrily. 
The  fleet  sped  on  before  it.  In  eighteen  days  they 
were  in  the  roads  at  Dominica,  the  island  of  brooks 
and  rivers  and  fruit.  Limes  and  lemons  and  oranges 
were  not  as  yet.  But  there  were  leaves  and  roots  of 
the  natural  growth,  known  to  the  Caribs  as  antidotes 
to  the  fever,  and  the  Caribs,  when  they  learnt  that 
the  English  were  the  Spaniards'  enemies,  brought 
them  this  precious  remedy  and  taught  them  the 
use  of  it.    The  ships  were  washed  and  ventilated, 


138    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Centwry 

and  the  water  casks  refilled.  The  infection  seemed 
to  have  gone  as  suddenly  as  it  appeared,  and  again 
all  was  well. 

Christmas  was  kept  at  St.  Kitts,  which  was  then 
uninhabited.  A  council  of  war  was  held  to  consider 
what  should  be  done  next.  St.  Domingo  lay  near- 
est to  them.  It  was  the  finest  of  all  the  Spanish 
colonial  cities.  It  was  the  capital  of  the  West 
Indian  Government,  the  great  centre  of  West 
Indian  commerce.  In  the  cathedral,  before  the 
high  altar,  lay  Columbus  and  his  brother  Diego.  In 
natural  wealth  no  island  in  the  world  outrivals  Es- 
pinola,  where  the  city  stood.  A  vast  population 
had  collected  there,  far  away  from  harm,  protected 
as  they  supposed,  by  the  majesty  of  the  mother 
country,  the  native  inhabitants  almost  exterminat- 
ed, themselves  undreaming  that  any  enemy  could 
approach  them  from  the  ocean,  and  therefore  neg- 
ligent of  defence  and  enjoying  themselves  in  easy 
security. 

Drake  was  to  give  them  a  new  experience  and  a 
lesson  for  the  future.  On  their  way  across  from 
St.  Kitts  the  adventurers  overhauled  a  small  vessel 
bound  to  the  same  port  as  they  were.  From  the 
crew  of  this  vessel  they  learnt  that  the  harbour  at 
St.  Domingo  was  formed,  like  so  many  others  in  the 
West  Indies,  by  a  long  sandspit,  acting  as  a  natural 
breakwater.  The  entrance  was  a  narrow  inlet  at 
the  extremity  of  the  spit,  and  batteries  had  been 
mounted  there  to  cover  it.  To  land  on  the  outer 
gide  of  the  sandbank  was  made  impossible  by  the 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies    139 

surf.  There  was  one  sheltered  point  only  where 
boats  could  go  on  shore,  but  this  was  ten  miles  dis- 
tant from  the  town. 

Ten  miles  was  but  a  morning's  march.  Drake 
went  in  himself  in  a  pinnace,  surveyed  the  landing- 
place,  and  satisfied  himself  of  its  safety.  The  plan 
of  attack  at  Sant  lago  was  to  be  exactly  repeated. 
On  New  Year's  Eve  Christopher  Carlile  was  again 
landed  with  half  the  force  in  the  fleet.  Drake 
remained  with  the  rest,  and  prepared  to  force  the 
entrance  of  the  harbour  if  Carlile  succeeded.  Their 
coming  had  been  seen  from  the  city.  The  alarm 
had  been  given,  and  the  women  and  children,  the 
money  in  the  treasury,  the  consecrated  plate,  mov- 
able property  of  all  kiuds,  were  sent  off  inland  as 
a  precaution.  Of  regular  troops  there  seem  to  have 
been  none,  but  in  so  populous  a  city  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  collecting  a  respectable  force  to 
defend  it.  The  hidalgos  formed  a  body  of  cavalry. 
The  people  generally  were  unused  to  arms,  but  they 
were  Spaniards  and  brave  men,  and  did  not  mean 
to  leave  their  homes  without  a  fight  for  it.  Carlile 
lay  still  for  the  night.  He  marched  at  eight  in  the 
morning  on  New  Year's  Day,  advanced  leisurely, 
and  at  noon  found  himself  in  front  of  the  waU.  So 
far  he  had  met  no  resistance,  but  a  considerable 
body  of  horse — gentlemen  and  their  servants  chiefly 
— charged  down  on  him  out  of  the  bush  and  out  of 
the  town.  He  formed  into  a  square  to  receive 
them.  They  came  on  gallantly,  but  were  received 
with  pike  and  shot,  and  after  a  few  attempts  gave 


140     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

up  and  retired.  Two  gates  were  in  front  of  Carlile, 
with  a  road  to  each  leading  through  a  jungle.  At 
each  gate  were  cannon,  and  the  jungle  was  lined 
with  musketeers.  He  divided  his  men  and  attacked 
both  together.  One  party  he  led  in  person.  The 
cannon  opened  on  him,  and  an  EngHshman  next 
to  him  was  killed.  He  dashed  on,  leaving  the 
Spaniards  no  time  to  reload,  carried  the  gate  at  a 
rush,  and  cut  his  way  through  the  streets  to  the 
great  square.  The  second  division  had  been 
equally  successful,  and  St.  Domingo  was  theirs  ex- 
cept the  castle,  which  was  still  untaken.  Carlile's 
numbers  were  too  small  to  occupy  a  large  city.  He 
threw  up  barricades  and  fortified  himself  in  the 
square  for  the  night.  Drake  brought  the  fleet  in  at 
daybreak,  and  landed  guns,  when  the  castle  sur- 
rendered. A  messenger — a  negro  boy — was  sent 
to  the  governor  to  learn  the  terms  which  he  was 
prepared  to  offer  to  save  the  city  from  piUage.  The 
Spanish  officers  were  smarting  with  the  disgrace. 
One  of  them  struck  the  lad  through  the  body  with 
a  lance.  He  ran  back  bleeding  to  the  English  lines 
and  died  at  Drake's  feet.  Sir  Francis  was  a  danger- 
ous man  to  provoke.  Such  doings  had  to  be  prompt- 
ly stopped.  In  the  part  of  the  town  which  he  occu- 
pied was  a  monastery  with  a  number  of  friars  in  it. 
The  religious  orders,  he  well  knew,  were  the  chief 
instigators  of  the  policy  which  was  maddening  the 
world.  He  sent  two  of  these  friars  with  the  pro- 
vost-marshal to  the  spot  where  the  boy  had  been 
struck,  promptly  hanged  them,  and  then  despatched 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies    141 

another  to  tell  the  governor  that  he  would  hang 
two  more  every  day  at  the  same  place  till  the  ofl&cer 
was  punished.  The  Spaniards  had  long  learnt  to 
call  Drake  the  Draque,  the  serpent,  the  devil.  They 
feared  that  the  devil  might  be  a  man  of  his  word. 
The  offender  was  surrendered.  It  was  not  enough. 
Drake  insisted  that  they  should  do  justice  on  him 
themselves.  The  governor  found  it  prudent  to  com- 
ply, and  the  too  hasty  officer  was  executed. 

The  next  point  was  the  ransom  of  the  city.  The 
Spaniards  still  hesitating,  200  men  were  told  off 
each  morning  to  bum,  while  the  rest  searched  the 
private  houses,  and  palaces,  and  magazines.  Gov- 
ernment House  was  the  grandest  building  in  the 
New  World.  It  was  approached  by  broad  flights 
of  marble  stairs.  Great  doors  opened  on  a  spacious 
gallery  leading  into  a  great  hall,  and  above  the  por- 
tico hung  the  arms  of  Spain — a  globe  representing 
the  world,  a  horse  leaping  upon  it,  and  in  the  horse's 
mouth  a  scroll  with  the  haughty  motto,  '  Non  sufficit 
orbis.'  Palace  and  scutcheon  were  levelled  into 
dust  by  axe  and  gunpowder,  and  each  day  for  a 
month  the  destruction  went  on,  Drake's  demands 
steadily  growing  and  the  unhappy  governor  vainly 
pleading  impossibility. 

Vandalism,  atrocity  unheard  of  among  civilised 
nations,  dishonour  to  the  Protestant  cause,  Drake 
deserving  to  swing  at  his  own  yardarm ;  so  indig- 
nant Liberalism  shrieked,  and  has  not  ceased  shriek- 
ing. Let  it  be  remembered  that  for  fifteen  years 
the  Spaniards  had  been  burning  English  seamen 


142    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

whenever  they  could  catch  them,  plotting  to  kill  the 
Queen  and  reduce  England  itself  into  vassaldom  to 
the  Pope.  The  English  nation,  the  loyal  part  of  it, 
were  replying  to  the  wild  pretension  by  the  hands 
of  their  own  admiral.  If  Philip  chose  to  counte- 
nance assassins,  if  the  Holy  Office  chose  to  bum 
English  sailors  as  heretics,  those  heretics  had  a 
right  to  make  Spain  understand  that  such  a  game 
was  dangerous,  that,  as  Santa  Cruz  had  said,  they 
had  teeth  and  could  use  them. 

It  was  found  in  the  end  that  the  governor's  plea 
of  impossibility  was  more  real  than  was  at  first  be- 
lieved. The  gold  and  silver  had  been  really  carried 
off.  All  else  that  was  valuable  had  been  burnt  or 
taken  by  the  English.  The  destruction  of  a  city  so 
solidly  built  was  tedious  and  difficult.  Nearly  half 
of  it  was  blown  up.  The  cathedral  was  spared, 
perhaps  as  the  resting-place  of  Columbus.  Drake 
had  other  work  before  him.  After  staying  a  month 
in  undisturbed  occupation  he  agreed  to  accept 
25,000  ducats  as  a  ransom  for  what  was  left  and 
sailed  away. 

It  was  now  February.  The  hot  season  was 
coming  on,  when  the  cHmate  would  be  dangerous. 
There  was  stiU  much  to  do  and  the  time  was  run- 
ning short.  Panama  had  to  be  left  for  another  op- 
portunity. Drake's  object  was  to  deal  blows  which 
would  shake  the  faith  of  Europe  in  the  Spanish 
power.  Carthagena  stood  next  to  St.  Domingo 
among  the  Spanish  West  Indian  fortresses.  The 
situation  was  strong.     In  1740  Carthagena  was  able 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies    143 

to  beat  off  Vernon  and  a  great  English  fleet.  But 
Drake's  crews  were  in  high  health  and  spirits,  and 
he  determined  to  see  what  he  could  do  with  it. 
Surprise  was  no  longer  to  be  hoped  for.  The  alarm 
had  spread  over  the  Caribbean  Sea.  But  in  their 
present  humour  they  were  ready  to  go  anywhere 
and  dare  anything,  and  to  Carthagena  they  went. 

Drake's  name  carried  terror  before  it.  Every 
non-combatant — old  men,  women  and  children — 
had  been  cleared  out  before  he  arrived,  but  the 
rest  prepared  for  a  smart  defence.  The  harbour  at 
Carthagena  was  formed,  as  at  St.  Domingo  and 
Port  Eoyal,  by  a  sandspit.  The  spit  was  long, 
narrow,  in  places  not  fifty  yards  wide,  and  covered 
with  prickly  bush,  and  along  this,  as  before,  it  was 
necessary  to  advance  to  reach  the  city.  A  trench 
had  been  cut  across  at  the  neck,  and  a  stiff  barri- 
cade built  and  armed  with  heavy  guns;  behind 
this  were  several  hundred  musketeers,  while  the 
bush  was  full  of  Indians  with  poisoned  arrows. 
Pointed  stakes — poisoned  also — had  been  driven 
into  the  ground  along  the  approaches,  on  which  to 
step  was  death.  Two  large  galleys,  full  of  men, 
patrolled  inside  the  bank  on  the  harbour  edge,  and 
with  these  preparations  the  inhabitants  hoped  to 
keep  the  dreadful  Drake  from  reaching  them. 
Carlile,  as  before,  was  to  do  the  land  fighting.  He 
was  set  on  shore  three  miles  down  the  spit.  The 
tide  is  slight  in  those  seas,  but  he  waited  till  it  was 
out,  and  advanced  along  the  outer  shore  at  low- 
water  mark.     He   was   thus  covered  by  the  bank 


144    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

from  the  harbour  galleys,  and  their  shots  passed 
over  him.  Two  squadrons  of  horse  came  out,  but 
could  do  nothing  to  him  on  the  broken  ground. 
The  English  pushed  on  to  the  wall,  scarcely  losing 
a  man.  They  charged,  scaled  the  parapets,  and 
drove  the  Spanish  infantry  back  at  point  of  pike. 
Carlile  killed  their  commander  with  his  own  hand. 
The  rest  fled  after  a  short  struggle,  and  Drake  was 
master  of  Carthagena.  Here  for  six  weeks  he  re- 
mained. The  Spaniards  withdrew  out  of  the  city, 
and  there  were  again  parleys  over  the  ransom 
money.  Courtesies  were  exchanged  among  the 
officers.  Drake  entertained  the  governor  and  his 
suite.  The  governor  returned  the  hospitality  and 
received  Drake  and  the  English  captains.  Drake 
demanded  100,000  ducats.  The  Spaniards  offered 
30,000,  and  protested  that  they  could  pay  no  more. 
The  dispute  might  have  lasted  longer,  but  it  was  cut 
short  by  the  reappearance  of  the  yellow  fever  in  the 
fleet,  this  time  in  a  deadlier  form.  The  Spanish 
offer  was  accepted,  and  Carthagena  was  left  to  its 
owners.  It  was  time  to  be  off,  for  the  heat  was 
telling,  and  the  men  began  to  drop  with  appalling 
rapidity.  Nombre  de  Dios  and  Panama  were  near 
and  under  their  lee,  and  Drake  threw  longing  eyes 
on  what,  if  all  else  had  been  well,  might  have 
proved  an  easy  capture.  But  on  a  review  of  their 
strength,  it  was  found  that  there  were  but  700  fit 
for  duty  who  could  be  spared  for  the  service,  and  a 
council  of  war  decided  that  a  march  across  the  Isth- 
mus with  so  small  a  force  was  too  dangerous  to  be 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies    145 

ventured.  Enough  had  been  done  for  glory,  enough 
for  the  political  impression  to  be  made  in  Europe. 
The  King  of  Spain  had  been  dared  in  his  own  do- 
minions. Three  fine  Spanish  cities  had  been  cap- 
tured by  storm  and  held  to  ransom.  In  other  as- 
pects the  success  had  fallen  short  of  expectation. 
This  time  they  had  taken  no  Cacafuego  with  a 
year's  produce  of  the  mines  in  her  hold.  The  plate 
and  coin  had  been  carried  oflf,  and  the  spoils  had 
been  in  a  form  not  easily  turned  to  value.  The  ex- 
pedition had  been  fitted  out  by  private  persons  to 
pay  its  own  cost.  The  result  in  money  was  but 
60,000?.  Forty  thousand  had  to  be  set  aside  for  ex- 
penses. There  remained  but  20,000Z  to  be  shared 
among  the  ships'  companies.  Men  and  officers  had 
entered,  high  and  low,  without  wages,  on  the  chance 
of  what  they  might  get.  The  officers  and  owners 
gave  a  significant  demonstration  of  the  splendid 
spirit  in  which  they  had  gone  about  their  work. 
They  decided  to  relinquish  their  own  claims  on  the 
ransom  paid  for  Carthagena,  and  bestow  the  same 
on  the  common  seamen,  '  wishing  it  were  so  much 
again  as  would  be  a  sufficient  reward  for  their  pain- 
ful endeavour.' 

Thus  all  were  well  satisfied,  conscious  all  that 
they  had  done  their  duty  to  their  Queen  and 
country.  The  adventurers'  fleet  turned  homewards 
at  the  beginning  of  April.  What  men  could  do 
they  had  achieved.  They  could  not  fight  against 
the  pestilence  of  the  tropics.  For  many  days  the 
yellow  fever  did  its  deadly  work  among  them,  and 
10 


146     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Cerdury 

only  slowly  abated.  They  were  delayed  by  calms 
and  unfavourable  winds.  Their  water  ran  short. 
They  had  to  land  again  at  Cape  Antonio,  the 
western  point  of  Cuba,  and  sink  wells  to  supply 
themselves.  Drake  himself,  it  was  observed, 
worked  with  spade  and  bucket,  like  the  meanest 
person  in  the  whole  company,  always  foremost 
where  toil  was  to  be  endured  or  honour  won,  the 
wisest  in  the  devising  of  enterprises,  the  calmest  in 
danger,  the  first  to  set  an  example  of  energy  in 
difficulties,  and,  above  all,  the  firmest  in  maintain- 
ing order  and  discipline.  The  fever  slackened  as 
they  reached  the  cooler  latitudes.  They  worked 
their  way  up  the  Bahama  Channel,  going  north  to 
avoid  the  trades.  The  French  Protestants  had 
been  attempting  to  colonise  in  Florida.  The 
Spaniards  had  built  a  fortress  on  the  coast,  to  ob- 
serve their  settlements  and,  as  occasion  offered,  cut 
Huguenot  throats.  As  he  passed  by  Drake  paid 
this  fortress  a  visit  and  wiped  it  out.  Farther 
north  again  he  was  in  time  to  save  the  remnant  of 
an  English  settlement,  rashly  planted  there  by 
another  brilliant  servant  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 

Of  all  the  famous  Elizabethans  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
is  the  most  romantically  interesting.  His  splen- 
did and  varied  gifts,  his  chequered  fortunes,  and 
his  cruel  end,  will  embalm  his  memory  in  English 
history.  But  Raleigh's  great  accomplishments 
promised  more  than  they  performed.  His  hand 
was  in  everything,  but  of  work  successfully  com- 
pleted he  had  less  to  show  than  others  far  his  in- 


TJie  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies     147 

feriors,  to  whom  fortune  had  offered  fewer  oppor- 
tunities. He  was  engaged  in  a  hundred  schemes  at 
once,  and  in  every  one  of  them  there  was  always 
some  taint  of  seK,  some  personal  ambition  or  private 
object  to  be  gained.  Hip  life  is  a  record  of  under- 
takings begun  in  enthusiasm,  maintained  imper- 
fectly, and  failures  in  the  end.  Among  his  other 
adventures  he  had  sent  a  colony  to  Virginia.  He 
had  imagined,  or  had  been  led  by  others  to  believe, 
that  there  was  an  Indian  Court  there  brilliant  as 
Montezuma's,  an  enlightened  nation  crying  to  be 
admitted  within  the  charmed  circle  of  Gloriana's 
subjects.  His  princes  and  princesses  proved  things 
of  air,  or  mere  Indian  savages ;  and  of  Ealeigh  there 
remains  nothing  in  Virginia  save  the  name  of  the 
city  which  is  called  after  him.  The  starving  sur- 
vivors of  his  settlement  on  the  Roanoke  River  were 
taken  on  board  by  Drake's  returning  squadron  and 
carried  home  to  England,  where  they  all  arrived 
safely,  to  the  glory  of  God,  as  our  pious  ancestors 
said  and  meant  in  unconventional  sincerity,  on  the 
28th  of  July,  1586. 

The  expedition,  as  I  have  said,  barely  paid  its 
cost.  In  the  shape  of  wages  the  officers  received 
nothing,  and  the  crews  but  a  few  pounds  a  man ; 
but  there  was,  perhaps,  not  one  of  them  who  was 
not  better  pleased  with  the  honour  which  he  had 
brought  back  than  if  he  had  come  home  loaded  with 
doubloons. 

Startled  Catholic  Europe  meanwhile  rubbed  its 
eyes  and  began  to  see  that  the  *  enterprise  of  Eng- 


148    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

land,'  as  the  intended  invasion  was  called,  might 
not  be  the  easy  thing  which  the  seminary  priests 
described  it.  The  seminary  priests  had  said  that 
so  far  as  England  was  Protestant  at  all  it  was 
Protestant  only  by  the  accident  of  its  Government, 
that  the  immense  majority  of  the  people  were  Cath- 
olic at  heart  and  were  thirsting  for  a  return  to  the 
fold,  that  on  the  first  appearance  of  a  Spanish  army 
of  deliverance  the  whole  edifice  which  Elizabeth 
had  raised  would  crumble  to  the  ground.  I  suppose 
it  is  true  that  if  the  world  had  then  been  advanced 
to  its  present  point  of  progress,  if  there  had  been 
then  recognised  a  Divine  right  to  rule  in  the  numeri- 
cal majority,  even  without  a  Spanish  army  the 
seminary  priests  would  have  had  their  way.  Eliza- 
beth's Parliaments  were  controlled  by  the  municipal- 
ities of  the  towns,  and  the  towns  were  Protestant. 
A  Parliament  chosen  by  universal  suffii'age  and  elec- 
toral districts  would  have  sent  Cecil  and  Walsingham 
into  private  life  or  to  the  scaffold,  replaced  the  Mass 
in  the  churches,  and  reduced  the  Queen,  if  she  had 
been  left  on  the  throne,  into  the  humble  servant  of 
the  Pope  and  Philip.  It  would  not  perhaps  have 
lasted,  but  that,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  would  have 
been  the  immediate  result,  and  instead  of  a  Refor- 
mation we  should  have  had  the  light  come  in  the 
shape  of  lightning.  But  I  have  often  asked  my 
Radical  friends  what  is  to  be  done  if  out  of  every 
hundred  enlightened  voters  two-thirds  will  give 
their  votes  one  way,  but  are  afraid  to  fight,  and  the 
remaining  third  will  not  only  vote  but  will  fight  too 


The  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies    149 

if  the  poll  goes  against  them.  Which  has  then  the 
right  to  rule?  I  can  tell  them  which  will  rule. 
The  brave  and  resolute  minority  will  rule.  Plato 
says  that  if  one  man  was  stronger  than  all  the  rest 
of  mankind  he  would  rule  all  the  rest  of  man- 
kind. It  must  be  so,  because  there  is  no  appeal. 
The  majority  must  be  prepared  to  assert  their 
Divine  right  with  their  right  hands,  or  it  will  go  the 
way  that  other  Divine  rights  have  gone  before.  I 
will  not  believe  the  world  to  have  been  so  ill-con- 
structed that  there  are  rights  which  cannot  be  en- 
forced. It  appears  to  me  that  the  true  right  to  rule 
in  any  nation  lies  with  those  who  are  best  and 
bravest,  whether  their  numbers  are  large  or  small ; 
and  three  centuries  ago  the  best  and  bravest  part  of 
this  English  nation  had  determined,  though  they 
were  but  a  third  of  it,  that  Pope  and  Spaniard 
should  be  no  masters  of  theirs.  Imagination  goes 
for  much  in  such  excited  times.  To  the  imagination 
of  Europe  in  the  sixteenth  century  the  power  of 
Spain  appeared  irresistible  if  she  chose  to  exert  it. 
Heretic  Dutchmen  might  rebel  in  a  remote  province, 
English  pirates  might  take  liberties  with  Spanish 
traders,  but  the  Prince  of  Parma  was  making  the 
Dutchmen  feel  their  master  at  last.  The  pirates 
were  but  so  many  wasps,  with  venom  in  their  stings, 
but  powerless  to  affect  the  general  tendencies  of 
things.  Except  to  the  shrewder  eyes  of  such  men 
as  Santa  Cruz  the  strength  of  the  English  at  sea 
had  been  left  out  of  count  in  the  calculations  of  the 
resources  of  Elizabeth's  Government.     Suddenly  a 


150     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

fleet  of  these  same  pirates,  sent  out,  unassisted  by 
their  sovereign,  by  the  private  impulse  of  a  few  in- 
dividuals, had  insulted  the  sacred  soil  of  Spain  her- 
self, sailed  into  Vigo,  pillaged  the  churches,  taken 
anything  that  they  required,  and  had  gone  away 
unmolested.  They  had  attacked,  stormed,  burnt,  or 
held  to  ransom  three  of  Spain's  proudest  colonial 
cities,  and  had  come  home  unfought  with.  The 
Catholic  conspirators  had  to  recognise  that  they 
had  a  worse  enemy  to  deal  with  than  Puritan  con- 
troversialists or  spoilt  Court  favourites.  The  Prot- 
estant English  mariners  stood  between  them  and 
their  prey,  and  had  to  be  encountered  on  an  ele- 
ment which  did  not  bow  to  popes  or  princes, 
before  Mary  Stuart  was  to  wear  Elizabeth's  crown 
or  Cardinal  Allen  be  enthroned  at  Canterbury.  It 
was  a  revelation  to  all  parties.  Elizabeth  herself 
had  not  expected — perhaps  had  not  wished — so 
signal  a  success.  War  was  now  looked  on  as  in- 
evitable. The  Spanish  admirals  represented  that 
the  national  honour  required  revenge  for  an  injury 
so  open  and  so  insolent.  The  Pope,  who  had  been 
long  goading  the  lethargic  Philip  into  action,  be- 
lieved that  now  at  last  he  would  be  compelled  to 
move ;  and  even  Philip  himself,  enduring  as  he  was, 
had  been  roused  to  perceive  that  iutrigues  and  con- 
spiracies would  serve  his  turn  no  longer.  He  must 
put  out  his  strength  in  earnest,  or  his  own  Span- 
iards might  turn  upon  him  as  unworthy  of  the 
crown  of  Isabella.  Very  reluctantly  he  allowed  the 
truth  to  be  brought  home  to  him.     He  had  never 


Tke  Great  Expedition  to  the  West  Indies     Voi 

liked  the  thought  of  invading  England.  If  he  con- 
quered it,  he  would  not  be  allowed  to  keep  it. 
Mary  Stuart  would  have  to  be  made  queen,  and 
Mary  Stuart  was  part  French,  and  might  be  wholly 
French.  The  burden  of  the  work  would  be  thrown 
entirely  on  his  shoulders,  and  his  own  reward  was 
to  be  the  Church's  blessing  and  the  approval  of  his 
own  conscience — nothing  else,  so  far  as  he  could 
see.  The  Pope  would  recover  his  annates,  his 
Peter's  pence,  and  his  indulgence  market. 

If  the  thing  was  to  be  done,  the  Pope,  it  was 
clear,  ought  to  pay  part  of  the  cost,  and  this  was 
what  the  Pope  did  not  intend  to  do  if  he  could 
help  it.  The  Pope  was  flattering  himself  that 
Drake's  performance  would  compel  Spain  to  go  to 
war  with  England  whether  he  assisted  or  did  not. 
In  this  matter  Philip  attempted  to  undeceive  his 
Holiness.  He  instructed  Olivarez,  his  ambassador 
at  Rome,  to  tell  the  Pope  that  nothing  had  been  yet 
done  to  him  by  the  English  which  he  could  not 
overlook,  and  unless  the  Pope  would  come  down 
with  a  handsome  contribution  peace  he  would 
make.  The  Pope  stormed  and  raged;  he  said  he 
doubted  whether  Philip  was  a  true  son  of  the  Church 
at  all ;  he  flung  plates  and  dishes  at  the  servants' 
heads  at  dinner.  He  said  that  if  he  gave  Philip 
money  PhUip  would  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  laugh 
at  him.  Not  one  maravedi  would  he  give  till  a 
Spanish  army  was  actually  landed  on  English  shores, 
and  from  this  resolution  he  was  not  to  be  moved. 

To  Philip  it  was  paiufully  certain  that  if  he  in- 


152    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

vaded  and  conquered  England  the  English  Catho- 
lics would  insist  that  he  must  make  Mary  Stuart 
queen.  He  did  not  like  Mary  Stuart.  He  disap- 
proved of  her  character.  He  distrusted  her  prom- 
ises. Spite  of  Jesuits  and  seminary  priests,  he  be- 
lieved that  she  was  still  a  Frenchwoman  at  heart, 
and  a  bad  woman  besides.  Yet  something  he  must 
do  for  the  outraged  honour  of  CastUe.  He  con- 
cluded, in  his  slow  way,  that  he  would  collect  a  fleet, 
the  largest  and  best-appointed  that  had  ever  floated 
on  the  sea.  He  would  send  or  lead  it  in  person  to 
the  English  Channel.  He  would  command  the  sit- 
uation with  an  overwhelming  force,  and  then  would 
choose  some  course  which  would  be  more  conven- 
ient to  himself  than  to  his  Holiness  at  Rome.  On 
the  whole  he  was  inclined  to  let  Elizabeth  continue 
queen,  and  forget  and  forgive  if  she  would  put  away 
her  Walsinghams  and  her  Drakes,  and  would  prom- 
ise to  be  good  for  the  future.  If  she  remained  ob- 
stinate his  great  fleet  would  cover  the  passage  of 
the  Prince  of  Parma's  army,  and  he  would  then  dic- 
tate his  own  terms  in  London. 


LECTUBE  Vn 

ATTACK  ON  CADIZ 

I  RECOLLECT  being  told  when  a  boy,  on  sending 
in  a  bad  translation  of  Horace,  that  I  ought  to 
remember  that  Horace  was  a  man  of  intelligence 
and  did  not  write  nonsense.  The  same  caution 
should  be  borne  in  mind  by  students  of  history. 
They  see  certain  things  done  by  kings  and  states- 
men which  they  beheve  they  can  interpret  by  as- 
suming such  persons  to  have  been  knaves  or  idiots. 
Once  an  explanation  given  from  the  baser  side  of 
human  nature,  they  assume  that  it  is  necessarily 
the  right  one,  and  they  make  their  Horace  into  a 
fool  without  a  misgiving  that  the  folly  may  lie  else- 
where. Remarkable  men  and  women  have  usually 
had  some  rational  motive  for  their  conduct,  which 
may  be  discovered,  if  we  look  for  it  with  our  eyes 
open. 

Nobody  has  suffered  more  from  bad  translators 
than  Elizabeth.  The  circumstances  of  Queen  Eliz- 
abeth's birth,  the  traditions  of  her  father,  the  inter- 
ests of  England,  and  the  sentiments  of  the  party 
who  had  sustained  her  claim  to  the  succession, 
obliged  her  on  coming  to  the  throne  to  renew  the 
separation  from  the  Papacy.    The  Church  of  Eng- 


154    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

land  was  re-established  on  an  Anglo-Catholic  basis, 
which  the  rival  factions  might  interpret  each  in  their 
own  way.  To  allow  more  than  one  form  of  public 
worship  would  have  led  in  the  heated  temper  of 
men's  minds  to  quarrels  and  civil  wars.  But  con- 
science might  be  left  free  under  outward  conformity, 
and  those  whom  the  Liturgy  did  not  suit  might  use 
their  own  ritual  in  their  private  houses.  Elizabeth 
and  her  wise  advisers  believed  that  if  her  subjects 
could  be  kept  from  fighting  and  killing  one  another, 
and  were  not  exasperated  by  outward  displays  of 
difference,  they  would  learn  that  righteousness  of 
life  was  more  important  than  orthodoxy,  and  to  es- 
timate at  their  real  value  the  rival  dogmas  of  theol- 
ogy. Had  time  permitted  the  experiment  to  have  a 
fair  trial,  it  would  perhaps  have  succeeded,  but,  un- 
happily for  the  Queen  and  for  England,  the  fire  of 
controversy  was  stUl  too  hot  under  the  ashes. 
Protestants  and  Catholics  had  been  taught  to  look 
on  one  another  as  enemies  of  God,  and  were  still 
reluctant  to  take  each  other's  hands  at  the  bidding 
of  an  Act  of  Parliament.  The  more  moderate  of  the 
Catholic  laity  saw  no  difference  so  great  between  the 
English  service  and  the  Mass  as  to  force  them  to 
desert  the  churches  where  their  fathers  had  wor- 
shipped for  centuries.  They  petitioned  the  Council 
of  Trent  for  permission  to  use  the  English  Prayer 
Book;  and  had  the  Council  consented,  religious 
dissension  would  have  dissolved  at  last  into  an  in- 
nocent difference  of  opinion.  But  the  Council  and 
the  Pope  had  determined  that  there  should  be  no 


Attack  on  Cadiz  156 

compromise  with  heresy,  and  the  request  was  re- 
fused, though  it  was  backed  by  Philip's  ambassador 
in  London.  The  action  of  the  Papacy  obliged  the 
Queen  to  leave  the  Administration  in  the  hands  of 
Protestants,  on  whose  loyalty  she  could  rely.  As 
the  struggle  with  the  Reformation  spread  and  deep- 
ened she  was  compelled  to  assist  indirectly  the 
Protestant  party  in  France  and  Scotland.  But  she 
still  adhered  to  her  own  principle ;  she  refused  to 
put  herself  at  the  head  of  a  Protestant  League.  She 
took  no  step  without  keeping  open  a  line  of  retreat 
on  a  contrary  policy.  She  had  Catholics  in  her 
Privy  Council  who  were  pensioners  of  Spain.  She 
filled  her  household  with  Catholics,  and  many  a  time 
drove  Burghley  distracted  by  listening  to  them  at 
critical  moments.  Her  constant  effort  was  to  disarm 
the  antagonism  of  the  adherents  of  the  old  belief, 
by  admitting  them  to  her  confidence,  and  showing 
them  that  one  part  of  her  subjects  was  as  dear  to 
her  as  another. 

For  ten  years  she  went  on  struggling.  For  ten 
years  she  was  proudly  able  to  say  that  during  all 
that  time  no  Catholic  had  suffered  for  his  belief 
either  in  purse  or  person.  The  advanced  section 
of  the  Catholic  clergy  was  in  despair.  They  saw 
the  consciences  of  their  flocks  benumbed  and  their 
faith  growing  lukewarm.  They  stirred  up  the  re- 
bellion of  the  North.  They  persuaded  Pius  V.  to 
force  them  to  a  sense  of  their  duties  by  declaring 
Elizabeth  excommunicated.  They  sent  their  mis- 
sionaries through  the  English  counties  to  recover 


156    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

sheep  that  were  straying,  and  teach  the  sin  of  sub- 
mission to  a  sovereign  whom  the  Pope  had  deposed. 
Then  had  followed  the  Ridolfi  plot,  deliberately  en- 
couraged by  the  Pope  and  Spain,  which  had  com- 
pelled the  Government  to  tighten  the  reins.  One 
conspiracy  had  followed  another.  Any  means  were 
held  legitimate  to  rid  the  world  of  an  enemy  of 
God.  The  Queen's  character  was  murdered  by  the 
foulest  slanders,  and  a  hundred  daggers  were  sharp- 
ened to  murder  her  person.  The  King  of  Spain 
had  not  advised  the  excommunication,  because  he 
knew  that  he  would  be  expected  to  execute  it,  and 
he  had  other  things  to  do.  When  called  on  to  act, 
he  and  Alva  said  that  if  the  English  Catholics  wanted 
Spanish  help  they  must  do  something  for  them- 
selves. To  do  the  priests  justice,  they  were  brave 
enough.  What  they  did,  and  how  far  they  had  suc- 
ceeded in  making  the  country  disaffected.  Father 
Parsons  has  told  you  in  the  paper  which  I  read  to 
you  in  a  former  lecture.  Elizabeth  refused  to  take 
care  of  herself.  She  would  show  no  distrust.  She 
would  not  dismiss  the  Catholic  ladies  and  gentle- 
men from  the  household.  She  would  allow  no  penal 
laws  to  be  enforced  against  Catholics  as  such.  Re- 
peated conspiraxjies  to  assassinate  her  were  detected 
and  exposed,  but  she  would  take  no  warning.  She 
would  have  no  bodyguard.  The  utmost  that  she 
would  do  was  to  allow  the  Jesuits  and  seminary 
priests,  who,  by  Parsons's  own  acknowledgment  were 
sowing  rebellion,  to  be  banished  the  realm,  and  if 
they  persisted  in  remaining  afterwards,  to  be  treated 


Attack  on  Cadiz  167 

as  traitors.  When  executions  are  treated  as  mar- 
tyrdoms, candidates  will  never  be  wanting  for  the 
crown  of  glory,  and  the  flame  only  burnt  the  hotter. 
Tyburn  and  the  quartering  knife  was  a  horrid  busi- 
ness, and  Elizabeth  sickened  over  it.  She  hated 
the  severity  which  she  was  compelled  to  exercise. 
Her  name  was  defiled  with  the  grossest  calumnies. 
She  knew  that  she  might  be  murdered  any  day.  For 
herself  she  was  proudly  indifferent ;  but  her  death 
would  and  must  be  followed  by  a  furious  civil  war. 
She  told  the  Privy  Council  one  day  after  some 
stormy  scene,  that  she  would  come  back  afterwards 
and  amuse  herself  with  seeing  the  Queen  of  Scots 
making  their  heads  fly. 

Philip  was  weary  of  it  too.  He  had  enough  to  do 
in  ruling  his  own  dominions  without  quarrelling  for 
ever  with  his  sister-in-law.  He  had  seen  that  she 
had  subjects,  few  or  many,  who,  if  he  struck,  would 
strike  back  again.  English  money  and  English 
volunteers  were  keeping  alive  the  war  in  the  Neth- 
erlands. English  privateers  had  plundered  his  gold 
ships,  destroyed  his  commerce,  and  burnt  his  West 
Indian  cities — all  this  in  the  interests  of  the  Pope, 
who  gave  him  fine  words  in  plenty,  but  who,  when 
called  on  for  money  to  help  in  the  English  conquest, 
only  flung  about  his  dinner  plates.  The  Duke  of 
Alva,  while  he  was  alive,  and  the  Prince  of  Parma, 
who  commanded  in  the  Netherlands  in  Alva's  place, 
advised  peace  if  peace  could  be  had  on  reasonable 
terms.  If  Elizabeth  would  consent  to  withdraw  her 
help  from  the  Netherlands,  and  would  allow  the 


158     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

English  Catholics  the  tacit  toleration  with  which 
her  reign  had  begun,  they  were  of  opinion,  and 
Philip  was  of  opinion  too,  that  it  would  be  better 
to  forgive  Drake  and  St.  Domingo,  abandon  Mary 
Stuart  and  the  seminary  priests,  and  meddle  no 
more  with  EngHsh  internal  politics. 

Tired  with  a  condition  which  was  neither  war  nor 
peace,  tired  with  hanging  traitors  and  the  endless 
problem  of  her  sister  of  Scotland,  Elizabeth  saw  no 
reason  for  refusing  offers  which  would  leave  her  in 
peace  for  the  rest  of  her  own  life.  PhUip,  it  was 
said,  would  restore  the  Mass  in  the  churches  in 
Holland.  She  might  stipulate  for  such  Hberty  of 
conscience  to  the  Holland  Protestants  as  she  was 
herself  willing  to  allow  the  English  Catholics.  She 
saw  no  reason  why  she  should  insist  on  a  liberty  of 
public  worship  which  she  had  herself  forbidden  at 
home.  She  did  not  see  why  the  Hollanders  should 
be  so  precise  about  hearing  Mass.  She  said  she 
would  rather  hear  a  thousand  Masses  herself  than 
have  on  her  conscience  the  crimes  committed  for 
the  Mass  or  against  it.  She  would  not  have  her 
realm  in  perpetual  torment  for  Mr.  CecU's  brothers 
in  Christ. 

This  was  Elizabeth's  personal  feeling.  It  could 
not  be  openly  avowed.  The  States  might  then  sur- 
render to  Philip  in  despair,  and  obtain  better  securi- 
ties for  their  political  liberties  than  she  was  ready 
to  ask  for  them.  They  might  then  join  the  Span- 
iards and  become  her  mortal  enemies.  But  she  had 
a  high  opinion  of  her  own  statecraft.     Her  Catholic 


Attack  on  Cadiz  159 

friends  assured  her  that,  once  at  peace  with  Philip, 
she  would  be  safe  from  all  the  world.  At  this  mo- 
ment accident  revealed  suddenly  another  chasm 
which  was  opening  unsuspected  at  her  feet. 

Both  Philip  and  she  were  really  wishing  for  peace. 
A  treaty  of  peace  between  the  Catholic  King  and  an 
excommunicated  princess  would  end  the  dream  of 
a  Catholic  revolution  in  England.  If  the  English 
peers  and  gentry  saw  the  censures  of  the  Church 
set  aside  so  lightly  by  the  most  orthodox  prince  in 
Europe,  Parsons  and  his  friends  would  preach  in 
vain  to  them  the  obligation  of  rebellion.  If  this 
deadly  negotiation  was  to  be  broken  off,  a  blow  must 
be  struck,  and  struck  at  once.  There  was  not  a  mo- 
ment to  be  lost. 

The  enchanted  prisoner  at  Tutbury  was  the  sleep- 
ing and  waking  dream  of  Catholic  chivalry.  The 
brave  knight  who  would  slay  the  dragon,  deliver 
Mary  Stuart,  and  place  her  on  the  usurper's  throne, 
would  outdo  Orlando  or  St.  George,  and  be  sung  of 
for  ever  as  the  noblest  hero  who  had  ever  wielded 
brand  or  spear.  Many  a  young  British  heart  had 
thrilled  with  hope  that  for  him  the  enterprise  was 
reserved.  One  of  these  was  a  certain  Anthony  Bab- 
ington,  a  gentleman  of  some  fortune  in  Derbyshire. 
A  seminary  priest  named  Ballard,  excited,  like  the 
rest,  by  the  need  of  action,  and  anxious  to  prevent 
the  peace,  fell  in  with  this  Babington,  and  thought 
he  had  found  the  man  for  his  work.  Elizabeth  dead 
and  Mary  Stuart  free,  there  would  be  no  more  talk 
of  peace.     A  plot  was  easily  formed.     Half  a  dozen 


160    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

gentlemen,  five  of  them  belonging  to  or  connected 
with  Elizabeth's  own  household,  were  to  shoot  or 
stab  her  and  escape  in  the  confusion;  Babington 
was  to  make  a  dash  on  Mary  Stuart's  prison-house 
and  carry  her  off  to  some  safe  place ;  while  Ballard 
undertook  to  raise  the  Catholic  peers  and  have  her 
proclaimed  queen.  Elizabeth  once  removed,  it  was 
supposed  that  they  would  not  hesitate.  Parma 
would  bring  over  the  Spanish  army  from  Dunkirk. 
The  Protestants  would  be  paralysed.  All  would  be 
begun  and  ended  in  a  few  weeks  or  even  days.  The 
Catholic  religion  would  be  re-established  and  the 
hated  heresy  would  be  trampled  out  for  ever.  Mary 
Stuart  had  been  consulted  and  had  enthusiastically 
agreed. 

This  interesting  lady  had  been  lately  profuse  in 
her  protestations  of  a  desire  for  reconciUation  with 
her  dearest  sister.  Elizabeth  had  almost  believed 
her  sincere.  Sick  of  the  endless  trouble  with  Mary 
Stuart  and  her  pretensions  and  schemings,  she  had 
intended  that  the  Scotch  queen  should  be  included 
in  the  treaty  with  Philip,  with  an  implied  recogni- 
tion of  her  right  to  succeed  to  the  English  throne 
after  Elizabeth's  death.  It  had  been  necessary,  how- 
ever, to  ascertain  in  some  way  whether  her  protesta- 
tions were  sincere.  A  secret  watch  had  been  kept 
over  her  correspondence,  and  Babington's  letters 
and  her  own  answers  had  fallen  into  Walsingham's 
hands.  There  it  all  was  in  her  own  cipher,  the  key 
to  which  had  been  betrayed  by  the  carelessness  of  a 
confederate.     The  six  gentlemen  who  were  to  have 


Attack  on  Cadiz  161 

rewarded  Elizabeth's  confidence  by  killing  her  were 
easily  recognised.  They  were  seized,  with  Babing- 
ton  and  Ballard,  when  they  imagined  themselves  on 
the  eve  of  their  triumph.  Babington  flinched  and 
confessed,  and  they  were  all  hanged.  Mary  Stuart 
herself  had  outworn  compassion.  Twice  already  on 
the  discovery  of  her  earlier  plots  the  House  of  Com- 
mons had  petitioned  for  her  execution.  For  this 
last  piece  of  treachery  she  was  tried  at  Fotheringay 
before  a  commission  of  Peers  and  Privy  Councillors. 
She  denied  her  letters,  but  her  complicity  was 
proved  beyond  a  doubt.  Parliament  was  called,  and 
a  third  time  insisted  that  the  long  drama  should  now 
be  ended  and  loyal  England  be  allowed  to  breathe 
in  peace.  Elizabeth  signed  the  warrant.  France, 
Spain,  any  other  power  in  the  world  would  have 
long  since  made  an  end  of  a  competitor  so  des- 
perate and  so  incurable.  Tom  by  many  feelings — 
natural  pity,  dread  of  the  world's  opinion — Eliza- 
beth paused  before  ordering  the  warrant  to  be  exe- 
cuted. If  nothing  had  been  at  stake  but  her  own 
life,  she  would  have  left  the  lady  to  weave  fresh 
plots  and  at  last,  perhaps,  to  succeed.  If  the  na- 
tion's safety  required  an  end  to  be  made  with  her, 
she  felt  it  hard  that  the  duty  should  be  thrown  on 
herself.  Where  were  all  those  eager  champions  whc 
had  signed  the  Association  Bond,  who  had  talked 
so  loudly  ?  Could  none  of  them  be  found  to  recol- 
lect their  oaths  and  take  the  law  into  their  own 
hands  ? 

Her  Council,  Burghley,  and  the  rest,  knowing  her 
11 


162    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

disposition  and  feeling  that  it  was  life  or  death  to 
English  liberty,  took  the  responsibility  on  them- 
selves. They  sent  the  warrant  down  to  Fotherin- 
gay  at  their  own  risk,  leaving  their  mistress  to  deny, 
if  she  pleased,  that  she  had  meant  it  to  be  executed  ; 
and  the  wild  career  of  Mary  Stuart  ended  on  the 
scaffold. 

They  knew  what  they  were  immediately  doing. 
They  knew  that  if  treason  had  a  meaning  Mary 
Stuart  had  brought  her  fate  upon  herself.  They  did 
not,  perhaps,  realise  the  full  effects  that  were  to  fol- 
low, or  that  with  Mary  Stuart  had  vanished  the  last 
serious  danger  of  a  Catholic  insurrection  in  Eng- 
land ;  or  perhaps  they  did  realise  it,  and  this  was 
what  decided  them  to  act. 

I  cannot  dwell  on  this  here.  As  long  as  there 
was  a  Catholic  princess  of  English  blood  to  succeed 
to  the  throne,  the  allegiance  of  the  Catholics  to 
Elizabeth  had  been  easily  shaken.  If  she  was  spared 
now,  every  one  of  them  would  look  on  her  as  their 
future  sovereign.  To  overthrow  Elizabeth  might 
mean  the  loss  of  national  independence.  The  Queen 
of  Scots  gone,  they  were  paralysed  by  divided  coun- 
sels, and  love  of  country  proved  stronger  than  their 
creed. 

What  concerns  us  specially  at  present  is  the  effect 
on  the  King  of  Spain.  The  reluctance  of  Philip  to 
undertake  the  English  enterprise  (the  '  empresa,'  as 
it  was  generally  called)  had  arisen  from  a  fear  that 
when  it  was  accomplished  he  would  lose  the  fruit  of 
his  labours.     He  could  never  assure  himself  that  if 


Attack  on  Cadiz  163 

he  placed  Mary  Stuart  on  the  throne  she  would  not 
become  eventually  French.  He  now  learnt  that  she 
had  bequeathed  to  himself  her  claims  on  the  English 
succession.  He  had  once  been  titular  King  of  Eng- 
land. He  had  pretensions  of  his  own,  as  in  the  de- 
scent from  Edward  III.  The  Jesuits,  the  Catholic 
enthusiasts  throughout  Europe,  assured  him  that  if 
he  would  now  take  up  the  cause  in  earnest,  he  might 
make  England  a  province  of  Spain.  There  were  still 
difficulties.  He  might  hope  that  the  English  Catho- 
lic laity  would  accept  him,  but  he  could  not  be  sure 
of  it.  He  could  not  be  sure  that  he  would  have  the 
support  of  the  Pope.  He  continued,  as  the  Conde 
de  Feria  said  scornfully  of  him,  '  meando  en  vado,' 
a  phrase  which  I  cannot  translate  ;  it  meant  hesitat- 
ing when  he  ought  to  act.  But  he  saw,  or  thought 
he  saw,  that  he  could  now  take  a  stronger  attitude 
towards  Elizabeth  as  a  claimant  to  her  throne.  If 
the  treaty  of  peace  was  to  go  forward,  he  could  raise 
his  terms.  He  could  insist  on  the  restoration  of  the 
Catholic  religion  in  England.  The  States  of  the 
Low  Countries  had  made  over  five  of  their  strongest 
towns  to  Elizabeth  as  the  price  of  her  assistance. 
He  could  insist  on  her  restoring  them,  not  to  the 
States,  but  to  himself.  Could  she  be  brought  to 
consent  to  such  an  act  of  perfidy,  Parma  and  he 
both  felt  that  the  power  would  then  be  gone  from 
her,  as  effectually  as  Samson's  when  his  locks  were 
clipped  by  the  harlot,  and  they  could  leave  her  then, 
if  it  suited  them,  on  a  throne  which  would  have  be- 
come a  pillory — for  the  finger  of  scorn  to  point  at. 


164    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Witli  such  a  view  before  him  it  was  more  than 
ever  necessary  for  Philip  to  hurry  forward  the  prep- 
arations which  he  had  ah:eady  commenced.  The 
more  formidable  he  could  make  himself,  the  better 
able  he  would  be  to  frighten  Elizabeth  into  sub- 
mission. 

Every  dockyard  in  Spain  was  set  to  work,  build- 
ing gaUeons  and  collecting  stores.  Santa  Cruz 
would  command.  Philip  was  himself  more  resolved 
than  ever  to  accompany  the  expedition  in  person 
and  dictate  from  the  English  Channel  the  condi- 
tions of  the  pacification  of  Europe. 

Secrecy  was  no  longer  attempted — indeed,  was  no 
longer  possible.  All  Latin  Christendom  was  pal- 
pitating with  expectation.  At  Lisbon,  at  Cadiz,  at 
Barcelona,  at  Naples,  the  shipwrights  were  busy 
night  and  day.  The  sea  was  covered  with  vessels 
freighted  with  arms  and  provisions  streaming  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Tagus.  Catholic  volunteers  from  all 
nations  flocked  into  the  Peninsula,  to  take  a  share 
in  the  mighty  movement  which  was  to  decide  the 
fate  of  the  world,  and  bishops,  priests,  and  monks 
were  set  praying  through  the  whole  Latin  Com- 
munion that  Heaven  would  protect  its  own  cause. 

Meantime  the  negotiations  for  peace  continued, 
and  Elizabeth,  strange  to  say,  persisted  in  listening. 
She  would  not  see  what  was  plain  to  all  the  world 
besides.  The  execution  of  the  Queen  of  Scots  lay 
on  her  spirit  and  threw  her  back  into  the  obstinate 
humour  which  had  made  Walsingham  so  often 
despair  of  her  safety.     For  two  months  after  that 


Attack  on  Cadiz  165 

scene  at  Fotheringay  she  had  refused  to  see  Burgh- 
ley,  and  would  consult  no  one  but  Sir  James  Crofts 
and  her  Spanish-tempered  ladies.  She  knew  that 
Spain  now  intended  that  she  should  betray  the 
towns  in  the  Low  Countries,  yet  she  was  blind  to 
the  infamy  which  it  would  bring  upon  her.  She 
left  her  troops  there  without  their  wages  to  shiver 
into  mutiny.  She  named  commissioners,  with  Sir 
James  Crofts  at  their  head,  to  go  to  Ostend  and 
treat  with  Parma,  and  if  she  had  not  resolved  on  an 
act  of  treachery  she  at  least  played  with  the  temp- 
tation, and  persuaded  herself  that  if  she  chose  to 
make  over  the  towns  to  Philip,  she  would  be  only 
restoring  them  to  their  lawful  owner. 

Burghley  and  Walsingham,  you  can  see  from  their 
letters,  believed  now  that  Elizabeth  had  ruined  her- 
self at  last.  Happily  her  moods  were  variable  as 
the  weather.  She  was  forced  to  see  the  condition 
to  which  she  had  reduced  her  affairs  in  the  Low 
Countries  by  the  appearance  of  a  number  of  starv- 
ing wretches  who  had  deserted  from  the  garrisons 
there  and  had  come  across  to  clamour  for  their  pay 
at  her  own  palace  gates.  If  she  had  no  troops  in 
the  field  but  a  mutinous  and  starving  rabble,  she 
might  get  no  terms  at  alL  It  might  be  well  to  show 
Philip  that  on  one  element  at  least  she  could  still 
be  dangerous.  She  had  lost  nothing  by  the  bold 
actions  of  Drake  and  the  privateers.  With  half  a 
heart  she  allowed  Drake  to  fit  them  out  again,  take 
the  Buonaventura,  a  ship  of  her  own,  to  carry  his 
flag,  and  go  down  to  the  coast  of  Spain  and  see 


166     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

what  was  going  on.  He  was  not  to  do  too  much. 
She  sent  a  vice-admiral  with  him,  in  the  Lion,  to  be 
a  check  on  over-audacity.  Drake  knew  how  to  deal 
with  embarrassing  vice-admirals.  His  own  adven- 
turers would  sail,  if  he  ordered,  to  the  Mountains  of 
the  Moon,  and  be  quite  certain  that  it  was  the  right 
place  to  go  to.  Once  mider  way  and  on  the  blue 
water  he  would  go  his  own  course  and  run  his  own 
risks.  Cadiz  Harbour  was  thronged  with  transports, 
provision  ships,  powder  vessels — a  hundred  sail  of 
them — many  of  a  thousand  tons  and  over,  loading 
with  stores  for  the  Armada.  There  were  thirty  sail 
of  adventurers,  the  smartest  ships  afloat  on  the 
ocean,  and  sailed  by  the  smartest  seamen  that  ever 
handled  rope  or  tiller.  Something  might  be  done 
at  Cadiz  if  he  did  not  say  too  much  about  it.  The 
leave  had  been  given  to  him  to  go,  but  he  knew  by 
experience,  and  Burghley  again  warned  him,  that 
it  might,  and  probably  would,  be  revoked  if  he 
waited  too  long.  The  moment  was  his  own,  and  he 
used  it.  He  was  but  just  in  time.  Before  his  sails 
were  under  the  horizon  a  courier  galloped  into 
Plymouth  with  orders  that  under  no  condition  was  he 
to  enter  port  or  haven  of  the  King  of  Spain,  or  in- 
jure Spanish  subjects.  What  else  was  he  going  out 
for?  He  had  guessed  how  it  would  be.  Comedy 
or  earnest  he  could  not  tell.  If  earnest,  some  such 
order  would  be  sent  after  him,  and  he  had  not  an 
instant  to  lose. 

He  sailed  on  the  morning  of  the  12th  of  April. 
Ofif  XJshant  he  fell  in  with  a  north-west  gale,  and  he 


Attack  on  Cadiz  167 

flew  on,  spreading  every  stitch  of  canvas  which  his 
spars  would  bear.  In  five  days  he  was  at  Cape  St. 
Vincent.  On  the  18th  he  had  the  white  houses  of 
Cadiz  right  in  front  of  him,  and  could  see  for  him- 
self the  forests  of  masts  from  the  ships  and  trans- 
ports with  which  the  harbour  was  choked.  Here 
was  a  chance  for  a  piece  of  service  if  there  was 
courage  for  the  venture.  He  signalled  for  his  officers 
to  come  on  board  the  Buonaventura.  There  before 
their  eyes  was,  if  not  the  Armada  itself,  the  ma- 
terials which  were  to  fit  the  Armada  for  the  seas. 
Did  they  dare  to  go  in  with  him  and  destroy  them  ? 
There  were  batteries  at  the  harbour  mouth,  but 
Drake's  mariners  had  faced  Spanish  batteries  at  St. 
Domingo  and  Carthagena  and  had  not  found  them 
very  formidable.  Go  in  ?  Of  course  they  would. 
Where  Drake  would  lead  the  corsairs  of  Plymouth 
were  never  afraid  to  follow.  The  vice-admiral 
pleaded  danger  to  her  Majesty's  ships.  It  was  not 
the  business  of  an  English  fleet  to  be  particular 
about  danger.  Straight  in  they  went  with  a  fair 
wind  and  a  flood  tide,  ran  past  the  batteries  and 
under  a  storm  of  shot,  to  which  they  did  not  trouble 
themselves  to  wait  to  reply.  The  poor  vice-admiral 
followed  reluctantly  in  the  Lion.  A  single  shot  hit 
the  lAon,  and  he  edged  away  out  of  range,  anchored, 
and  drifted  to  sea  again  with  the  ebb.  But  Drake 
and  all  the  rest  dashed  on,  sank  the  guardship — 
a  large  galleon — and  sent  flying  a  fleet  of  galleys 
which  ventured  too  near  them  and  were  never  seen 
again. 


168    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Further  resistance  there  was  none — absolutely 
none.  The  crews  of  the  store  ships  escaped  in  their 
boats  to  land.  The  governor  of  Cadiz,  the  same 
Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  who  the  next  year  was  to 
gain  a  disastrous  immortality,  fled  '  like  a  tall  gen- 
tleman' to  raise  troops  and  prevent  Drake  from 
landing.  Drake  had  no  intention  of  landing.  At 
his  extreme  leisure  he  took  possession  of  the  Span- 
ish shipping,  searched  every  vessel,  and  carried  off 
everything  that  he  could  use.  He  detained  as  pris- 
oners the  few  men  that  he  found  on  board,  and 
then,  after  doing  his  work  deliberately  and  com- 
pletely, he  set  the  hulls  on  fire,  cut  the  cables,  and 
left  them  to  drive  on  the  rising  tide  under  the  walls 
of  the  town — a  confused  mass  of  blazing  ruin.  On 
the  12th  of  April  he  had  sailed  from  Plymouth ;  on 
the  19th  he  entered  Cadiz  harbour;  on  the  1st  of 
May  he  passed  out  again  without  the  loss  of  a  boat 
or  a  man.  He  said  in  jest  that  he  had  singed  the 
King  of  Spain's  beard  for  him.  In  sober  prose  he 
had  done  the  King  of  Spain  an  amount  of  damage 
which  a  million  ducats  and  a  year's  labour  would 
imperfectly  replace.  The  daring  rapidity  of  the 
enterprise  astonished  Spain,  and  astonished  Europe 
more  than  the  storm  of  the  West  Indian  towns. 
The  English  had  long  teeth,  as  Santa  Cruz  had 
told  Philip's  council,  and  the  teeth  would  need 
drawing  before  Mass  would  be  heard  again  at 
Westminster.  The  Spaniards  were  a  gallant  race, 
and  a  dashing  exploit,  though  at  their  own  expense, 
could  be  admired  by  the  countrymen  of  Cervantes. 


Attack  on  Cadiz  169 

*  So  praised,'  we  read,  '  was  Drake  for  his  valour 
among  them  that  they  said  if  he  was  not  a  Lutheran 
there  would  not  be  the  like  of  him  in  the  world.* 
A  Court  lady  was  invited  by  the  King  to  join  a 
party  on  a  lake  near  Madrid.  The  lady  replied  that 
she  dared  not  trust  herself  on  the  water  with  his 
Majesty  lest  Sir  Francis  Drake  should  have  her. 

Drake  might  well  be  praised.  But  Drake  would 
have  been  the  first  to  divide  the  honour  with  the 
comrades  who  were  his  arm  and  hand.  Great  ad- 
mirals and  generals  do  not  win  their  battles  single- 
handed  like  the  heroes  of  romance.  Orders  avail 
only  when  there  are  men  to  execute  them.  Not  a 
captain,  not  an  oflScer  who  served  under  Drake, 
ever  flinched  or  blundered.  Never  was  such  a 
school  for  seamen  as  that  twenty  years'  privateer- 
ing war  between  the  servants  of  the  Pope  and  the 
West-country  Protestant  adventurers.  Those  too 
must  be  remembered  who  built  and  rigged  the  ships 
in  which  they  sailed  and  fought  their  battles.  We 
may  depend  upon  it  that  there  was  no  dishonesty 
in  contractors,  no  scamping  of  the  work  in  the  yards 
where  the  Plymouth  rovers  were  fitted  out  for  sea. 
Their  hearts  were  in  it ;  they  were  soldiers  of  a 
common  cause. 

Three  weeks  had  sufficed  for  Cadiz.  No  order 
for  recall  had  yet  arrived.  Drake  had  other  plans 
before  him,  and  the  men  were  in  high  spirits  and 
ready  for  anything.  A  fleet  of  Spanish  men-of-war 
was  expected  round  from  the  Mediterranean.  He 
proposed  to  stay  for  q-  weejs  or  two  in  the  neigh- 


170    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

bourhood  of  the  Straits,  in  the  hope  of  falling  in 
with  them.  He  wanted  fresh  water,  too,  and  had 
to  find  it  somewhere. 

Before  leaving  Cadiz  Roads  he  had  to  decide 
what  to  do  with  his  prisoners.  Many  English  were 
known  to  be  in  the  hands  of  the  Holy  Office  work- 
ing in  irons  as  galley  slaves.  He  sent  in  a  pinnace 
to  propose  an  exchange,  and  had  to  wait  some  days 
for  an  answer.  At  length,  after  a  reference  to  Lis- 
bon, the  Spanish  authorities  replied  that  they  had 
no  English  prisoners.  If  'this  was  true  those  they 
had  must  have  died  of  barbarous  usage ;  and  after 
a  consultation  with  his  officers  Sir  Francis  sent  in 
word  that  for  the  future  such  prisoners  as  they 
might  take  would  be  sold  to  the  Moors,  and  the 
money  applied  to  the  redemption  of  English  cap- 
tives in  other  parts  of  the  world. 

Water  was  the  next  point.  There  were  springs 
at  Faro,  with  a  Spanish  force  stationed  there  to 
guard  them.  Force  or  no  force,  water  was  to  be 
had.  The  boats  were  sent  on  shore.  The  boats' 
crews  stormed  the  forts  and  filled  the  casks.  The 
vice-admiral  again  lifted  up  his  voice.  The  Queen 
had  ordered  that  there  was  to  be  no  landing  on 
Spanish  soil.  At  Cadiz  the  order  had  been  ob- 
served. There  had  been  no  need  to  land.  Here  at 
Faro  there  had  been  direct  defiance  of  her  Majesty's 
command.  He  became  so  loud  in  his  clamours  that 
Drake  found  it  necessary  to  lock  him  up  lq  his  own 
cabin,  and  at  length  to  send  him  home  with  his  ship 
to  complain.      For  himself,  as  the  expected  fleet 


Attack  on  Cadiz  171 

from  the  Straits  did  not  appear,  and  as  he  had 
shaken  off  his  troublesome  second  in  command,  he 
proceeded  leisurely  up  the  coast,  intending  to  look 
in  at  Lisbon  and  see  for  himself  how  things  were 
going  on  there.  All  along  as  he  went  he  fell  in 
with  traders  loaded  with  supplies  for  the  use  of  the 
Armada.  All  these  he  destroyed  as  he  advanced, 
and  at  length  found  himself  under  the  purple  hills 
of  Cintra  and  looking  up  into  the  Tagus.  There 
lay  gathered  together  the  strength  of  the  fighting 
naval  force  of  Spain — fifty  great  galleons,  already 
arrived,  the  largest  warships  which  then  floated  on 
the  ocean.  Santa  Cruz,  the  best  officer  in  the 
Spanish  navy,  was  himself  in  the  town  and  in  com- 
mand. To  venture  a  repetition  of  the  Cadiz  exploit 
in  the  face  of  such  odds  seemed  too  desperate  even 
for  Drake,  but  it  was  one  of  those  occasions  when 
the  genius  of  a  great  commander  sees  more  than 
ordinary  eyes.  He  calculated,  and,  as  was  proved 
afterwards,  calculated  rightly,  that  the  galleons 
would  be  half  manned,  or  not  manned  at  all,  and 
crowded  with  landsmen  bringing  on  board  the 
stores.  Their  sides  as  they  lay  would  be  choked 
with  hulks  and  lighters.  They  would  be  unable  to 
get  their  anchors  up,  set  their  canvas,  or  stir  from 
their  moorings.  Daring  as  Drake  was  known  to 
be,  no  one  would  expect  him  to  go  with  so  small  a 
force  into  the  enemy's  stronghold,  and  there  would 
be  no  preparations  to  meet  him.  He  could  count 
upon  the  tides.  The  winds  at  that  season  of  the 
year  were  fresh  and  steady,  and  could  be  counted 


172    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

on  also  to  take  him  in  or  out ;  there  was  sea  room 
in  the  river  for  such  vessels  as  the  adventurers'  to 
manoeuvre  and  to  retreat  if  overmatched.  Kash  as 
such  an  enterprise  might  seem  to  an  unprofessional 
eye,  Drake  certainly  thought  of  it,  perhaps  had 
meant  to  try  it  in  some  form  or  other  and  so  make 
an  end  of  the  Spanish  invasion  of  England.  He 
could  not  venture  without  asking  first  for  his  mis- 
tress's permission.  He  knew  her  nature.  He  knew 
that  his  services  at  Cadiz  would  outweigh  his  dis- 
regard of  her  orders,  and  that  so  far  he  had  nothing 
to  fear ;  but  he  knew  also  that  she  was  still  hanker- 
ing after  peace,  and  that  without  her  leave  he  must 
do  nothing  to  make  peace  impossible.  There  is  a 
letter  from  him  to  the  Queen,  written  when  he  was 
lying  off  Lisbon,  very  characteristic  of  the  time  and 
the  man. 

Nelson  or  Lord  St.  Vincent  did  not  talk  much  of 
expecting  supernatural  assistance.  If  they  had  we 
should  suspect  them  of  using  language  conventionally 
which  they  would  have  done  better  to  leave  alone. 
Sir  Francis  Drake,  like  his  other  great  contem- 
poraries, believed  that  he  was  engaged  in  a  holy 
cause,  and  was  not  afraid  or  ashamed  to  say  so. 
His  object  was  to  protest  against  a  recall  in  the 
flow  of  victory.  The  Spaniards,  he  said,  were  but 
mortal  men.  They  were  enemies  of  the  Truth,  up- 
holders of  Dagon's  image,  which  had  fallen  in  other 
days  before  the  Ark,  and  would  fall  again  if  boldly 
defied.  So  long  as  he  had  ships  that  would  float, 
and  there  was  food  on  board  them  for  the  men  to 


Attack  on  Cadiz  173 

eat,  he  entreated  her  to  let  him  stay  and  strike  when- 
ever a  chance  was  offered  him.  The  continuing  to 
the  end  yielded  the  true  glory.  When  men  were 
serving  religion  and  their  country,  a  merciful  God, 
it  was  likely,  would  give  them  victory,  and  Satan 
and  his  angels  should  not  prevail. 

All  in  good  time.  Another  year  and  Drake 
would  have  the  chance  he  wanted.  For  the  mo- 
ment Satan  had  prevailed — Satan  in  the  shape  of 
Elizabeth's  Catholic  advisers.  Her  answer  came. 
It  was  warm  and  generous.  She  did  not,  could 
not,  blame  him  for  what  he  had  done  so  far,  but 
she  desired  him  to  provoke  the  King  of  Spain  no 
further.  The  negotiations  for  peace  had  opened, 
and  must  not  be  interfered  with. 

This  prohibition  from  the  Queen  prevented,  per- 
haps, what  would  have  been  the  most  remarkable 
exploit  in  English  naval  history.  As  matters  stood 
it  would  have  been  perfectly  possible  for  Drake  to 
have  gone  into  the  Tagus,  and  if  he  could  not  have 
bm-nt  the  galleons  he  could  certainly  have  come 
away  unhurt.  He  had  guessed  their  condition 
with  entire  correctness.  The  ships  were  there,  but 
the  ships'  companies  were  not  on  board  them. 
Santa  Cruz  himself  admitted  that  if  Drake  had 
gone  in  he  could  have  himself  done  nothing  '  por 
falta  de  gente '  (for  want  of  men).  And  Drake 
undoubtedly  would  have  gone,  and  would  have 
done  something  with  which  all  the  world  would 
have  rung,  but  for  the  positive  command  of  his 
mistress.     He  lingered  in  the  roads  at  Cintra,  hop- 


174    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

ing  that  Santa  Cruz  would  come  out  and  meet  him. 
All  Spain  was  clamouring  at  Santa  Cruz's  inaction. 
Philip  wrote  to  stir  the  old  admiral  to  energy.  He 
must  not  allow  himself  to  be  defied  by  a  squadron 
of  insolent  rovers.  He  must  chase  them  off  the 
coast  or  destroy  them.  Santa  Cruz  needed  no 
stirring.  Santa  Cruz,  the  hero  of  a  hundred  fights, 
was  chafing  at  his  own  impotence ;  but  he  was 
obliged  to  tell  his  master  that  if  he  wished  to  have 
service  out  of  his  gaUeons  he  must  provide  crews 
to  handle  them,  and  they  must  rot  at  their  ^anchors 
till  he  did.  He  told  him,  moreover,  that  it  was 
time  for  him  to  exert  himself  in  earnest.  If  he 
waited  much  longer,  England  would  have  grown  too 
strong  for  him  to  deal  with. 

In  strict  obedience  Drake  ought  now  to  have 
gone  home,  but  the  campaign  had  brought  so  far 
more  glory  than  prize  money.  His  comrades  re- 
quired some  consolation  for  their  disappointment 
at  Lisbon.  The  theory  of  these  armaments  of  the 
adventurers  was  that  the  cost  should  be  paid  some- 
how by  the  enemy,  and  he  could  be  assured  that  if 
he  brought  back  a  prize  or  two  in  which  she  could 
claim  a  share  the  Queen  would  not  call  him  to  a 
very  strict  account.  Homeward-bound  galleons  or 
merchantmen  were  to  be  met  with  occasionally  at 
the  Azores.  On  leaving  Lisbon  Drake  headed 
away  to  St.  Michael's,  and  his  lucky  star  was  still 
in  the  ascendant. 

As  if  sent  on  purpose  for  him,  the  San  Philip,  a 
magnificent  caraque  from  the  Indies,  fell  straight 


Attack  on  Cadiz  175 

into  his  hands,  '  so  richly  loaded,'  it  was  said,  '  that 
every  man  in  the  fleet  counted  his  fortune  made.' 
There  was  no  need  to  wait  for  more.  It  was  but 
two  months  siace  Drake  had  sailed  from  Plymouth. 
He  could  now  go  home  after  a  cruise  of  which  the 
history  of  his  own  or  any  other  country  had  never 
presented  the  like.  He  had  struck  the  King  of 
Spain  in  his  own  stronghold.  He  had  disabled  the 
intended  Armada  for  one  season  at  least.  He  had 
picked  up  a  prize  by  the  way  and  as  if  by  accident, 
worth  haK  a  million,  to  pay  his  expenses,  so  that  he 
had  cost  nothing  to  his  mistress,  and  had  brought 
back  a  handsome  present  for  her.  I  doubt  if  such 
a  naval  estimate  was  ever  presented  to  an  English 
House  of  Commons.  Above  all  he  had  taught  the 
self-confident  Spaniard  to  be  afraid  of  him,  and  he 
carried  back  his  poor  comrades  in  such  a  glow  of 
triumph  that  they  would  have  fought  Satan  and  all 
his  angels  with  Drake  at  their  head. 

Our  West-country  annals  still  tell  how  the  coun- 
try people  streamed  down  in  their  best  clothes  to 
see  the  great  San  Philip  towed  into  Dartmouth 
Harbour.  English  Protestantism  was  no  bad  cable 
for  the  nation  to  ride  by  in  those  stormy  times,  and 
deserves  to  be  honourably  remembered  in  a  School 
of  History  at  an  English  University. 


LECTURE  Vin 

SAILmG  OF  THE  AEMADA 

Peace  or  war  between  Spain  and  England,  that 
was  now  the  question,  with  a  prospect  of  securing 
the  English  succession  for  himself  or  one  of  his 
daughters.  With  the  whole  Spanish  nation  smart- 
ing under  the  indignity  of  the  burning  of  the  ships 
at  Cadiz,  Philip's  warlike  ardour  had  warmed  into 
something  like  fire.  He  had  resolved  at  any  rate, 
if  he  was  to  forgive  his  sister-in-law  at  all,  to  insist 
on  more  than  toleration  for  the  Catholics  in  Eng- 
land. He  did  not  contemplate  as  even  possible 
that  the  English  privateers,  however  bold  or  dex- 
terous, could  resist  such  an  armament  as  he  was 
preparing  to  lead  to  the  Channel.  The  Royal 
Navy,  he  knew  very  well,  did  not  exceed  twenty- 
five  ships  of  aU  sorts  and  sizes.  The  adventurers 
might  be  equal  to  sudden  daring  actions,  but  would 
and  must  be  crushed  by  such  a  fleet  as  was  being 
fitted  out  at  Lisbon.  He  therefore,  for  himself, 
meant  to  demand  that  the  Catholic  religion  should 
be  restored  to  its  complete  and  exclusive  supe- 
riority, and  certain  towns  in  England  were  to  be 
made  over  to  be  garrisoned  by  Spanish  troops  as 
Becurities  for  Elizabeth's  good  behaviour.     As  often 


Scdling  of  the  Armada  177 

happens  with  irresolute  men,  when  they  have  once 
been  forced  to  a  decision  they  are  as  too  hasty  as 
before  they  were  too  slow.  After  Drake  had  re- 
tired from  Lisbon  the  King  of  Spain  sent  orders  to 
the  Prince  of  Parma  not  to  wait  for  the  arrival  of 
the  Armada,  but  to  cross  the  Channel  immediately 
with  the  Flanders  army,  and  bring  Elizabeth  to  her 
knees.  Parma  had  more  sense  than  his  master. 
He  represented  that  he  could  not  cross  without  a 
fleet  to  cover  his  passage.  His  transport  barges 
would  only  float  in  smooth  water,  and  whether  the 
water  was  smooth  or  rough  they  could  be  sent  to 
the  bottom  by  half  a  dozen  English  cruisers  from 
the  Thames.  Supposing  him  to  have  landed,  either 
in  Thanet  or  other  spot,  he  reminded  Philip  that 
he  could  not  have  at  most  more  than  25,000  men 
with  him.  The  English  militia  were  in  training. 
The  Jesuits  said  they  were  disaffected,  but  the  Jes- 
uits might  be  making  a  mistake.  He  might  have 
to  fight  more  than  one  battle.  He  would  have  to 
leave  detachments  as  he  advanced  to  London,  to 
cover  his  communications,  and  a  reverse  would  be 
fatal.  He  would  obey  if  his  Majesty  persisted,  but 
he  recommended  Philip  to  continue  to  amuse  the 
English  with  the  treaty  till  the  Armada  was  ready, 
and,  in  evident  consciousness  that  the  enterprise 
would  be  harder  than  Philip  imagined,  he  even 
gave  it  as  his  own  opinion  still  (notwithstanding 
Cadiz),  that  if  Elizabeth  would  surrender  the  cau- 
tionary towns  in   Flanders   to   Spain,  and   would 

grant  the  English  Catholics  a  fair  degree  of  liberty, 
12 


178     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Oentury 

it  would  be  Philip's  interest  to  make  peace  at  once 
without  stipulating  for  further  terms.  He  could 
make  a  new  war  if  he  wished  at  a  future  time,  when 
circumstances  might  be  more  convenient  and  the 
Netherlands  revolt  subdued. 

To  such  conditions  as  these  it  seemed  that  Eliz- 
abeth was  inclining  to  consent.  The  towns  had 
been  trusted  to  her  keeping  by  the  Netherlanders. 
To  give  them  up  to  the  enemy  to  make  better  con- 
ditions for  herself  would  be  an  infamy  so  great  as  to 
have  disgraced  Elizabeth  for  ever;  yet  she  would 
not  see  it.  She  said  the  towns  belonged  to  Philip 
and  she  would  only  be  restoring  his  own  to  him. 
Burghley  bade  her,  if  she  wanted  peace,  send  back 
Drake  to  the  Azores  and  frighten  Philip  for  his  gold 
ships.  She  was  in  one  of  her  ungovernable  moods. 
Instead  of  sending  out  Drake  again  she  ordered  her 
own  fleet  to  be  dismantled  and  laid  up  at  Chatham, 
and  she  condescended  to  apologise  to  Parma  for  the 
burning  of  the  transports  at  Cadiz  as  done  against 
her  orders. 

This  was  in  December  1587,  only  five  months 
before  the  Armada  sailed  from  Lisbon.  Never  had 
she  brought  herself  and  her  country  so  near  ruin. 
The  entire  safety  of  England  rested  at  that  moment 
on  the  adventurers,  and  on  the  adventurers  alone. 

Meanwhile,  with  enormous  etfort  the  destruction 
at  Cadiz  had  been  repaired.  The  great  fleet  was 
pushed  on,  and  in  February  Santa  Cruz  reported 
himself  almost  ready.  Santa  Cruz  and  Philip,  how- 
ever, were  not  in  agreement  as  to  what  should  be 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  179 

done.  Santa  Cruz  was  a  fighting  admiral,  Philip 
was  not  a  fighting  king.  He  changed  his  mind  as 
often  as  Elizabeth.  Hot  fits  varied  with  cold.  His 
last  news  from  England  led  him  to  hope  that  fight- 
ing would  not  be  wanted.  The  Commissioners  were 
sitting  at  Ostend.  On  one  side  there  were  the 
formal  negotiations,  in  which  the  surrender  of  the 
towns  was  not  yet  treated  as  an  open  question. 
Had  the  States  been  aware  that  Elizabeth  was  even 
in  thought  entertaining  it,  they  would  have  made 
terms  instantly  on  their  own  account  and  left  her 
alcne  in  the  cold.  Besides  this,  there  was  a  second 
negotiation  underneath,  carried  on  by  private  agents, 
in  which  the  surrender  was  to  be  the  special  condi- 
tion. These  complicated  schemings  Parma  pur- 
posely protracted,  to  keep  Elizabeth  in  false  security. 
She  had  not  deliberately  intended  to  give  up  the 
towns.  At  the  last  moment  she  would  have  proba- 
bly refused,  unless  the  States  themselves  consented 
to  it  as  part  of  a  general  settlement.  But  she  was 
playing  with  the  idea.  The  States,  she  thought, 
were  too  obstinate.  Peace  would  be  good  for  them, 
and  she  said  she  might  do  them  good  if  she  pleased, 
whether  they  liked  it  or  not. 

Parma  was  content  that  she  should  amuse  her- 
self with  words  and  neglect  her  defences  by  sea 
and  land.  By  the  end  of  February  Santa  Cruz  was 
ready.  A  northerly  wind  blows  strong  down  the 
coast  of  Portugal  in  the  spring  months,  and  he 
meant  to  be  off  before  it  set  in,  before  the  end  of 
March   at   latest.     Unfortunately  for  Spain,  Santa 


180    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Cruz  fell  ill  at  the  last  moment — ill,  it  was  said, 
with  anxiety.  Santa  Cruz  knew  well  enough  what 
Philip  would  not  know — that  the  expedition  would 
be  no  holiday  parade.  He  had  reason  enough  to 
be  anxious  if  Philip  was  to  accompany  him  and  tie 
his  hands  and  embarrass  him.  Any  way,  Santa 
Cruz  died  after  a  few  days'  illness.  The  sailing 
had  to  be  suspended  till  a  new  commander  could 
be  decided  on,  and  in  the  choice  which  Philip  made 
he  gave  a  curious  proof  of  what  he  intended  the  ex- 
pedition to  do.  He  did  not  really  expect  or  wish 
for  any  serious  fighting.  He  wanted  to  be  sovereign 
of  England  again,  with  the  assent  of  the  English 
Catholics.  He  did  not  mean,  if  he  could  help  it,  to 
irritate  the  national  pride  by  force  and  conquest. 
While  Santa  Cruz  lived,  Spanish  public  opinion 
would  not  allow  him  to  be  passed  over.  Santa 
Cruz  must  command,  and  Philip  had  resolved  to  go 
with  him,  to  prevent  too  violent  proceedings.  Santa 
Cruz  dead,  he  could  find  someone  who  would  do 
what  he  was  told,  and  his  own  presence  would  no 
longer  be  necessary. 

The  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  named  El  Bueno, 
or  the  Good,  was  a  grandee  of  highest  rank.  He 
was  enormously  rich,  fond  of  hunting  and  shooting, 
a  tolerable  rider,  for  the  rest  a  harmless  creature 
getting  on  to  forty,  conscious  of  his  defects,  but  not 
aware  that  so  great  a  prince  had  any  need  to  mend 
them  ;  without  vanity,  without  ambition,  and  most 
happy  when  lounging  in  his  orange  gardens  at  San 
Lucan.     Of  active  service  he  had  seen  none.     He 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  181 

was  Captain-General  of  Andalusia,  and  had  run 
away  from  Cadiz  wlien  Drake  came  into  the  har- 
bour ;  but  that  was  all.  To  his  astonishment  and  to 
his  dismay,  he  learnt  that  it  was  on  him  that  the  choice 
had  fallen  to  be  the  Lord  High  Admiral  of  Spain 
and  commander  of  the  so  much  talked  of  expedition 
to  England.  He  protested  his  unfitness.  He  said 
that  he  was  no  seaman ;  that  he  knew  nothing  of 
fighting  by  sea  or  land  ;  that  if  he  ventured  out  in  a 
boat  he  was  always  sick ;  that  he  had  never  seen  the 
English  Channel ;  and  that,  as  to  politics,  he  neither 
knew  anything  nor  cared  anything  about  them.  In 
short,  he  had  not  one  qualification  which  such  a 
post  required- 
Philip  liked  his  modesty ;  but  in  fact  the  Duke's 
defects  were  his  recommendations.  He  would  obey 
his  instructions,  would  not  fight  unless  it  was  neces- 
sary, and  would  go  into  no  rash  adventures.  All 
that  Philip  wanted  him  to  do  was  to  find  the  Prince 
of  Parma,  and  act  as  Parma  should  bid  him.  As  to 
seamanship,  he  would  have  the  best  officers  in  the 
navy  under  him  ;  and  for  a  second  in  command  he 
should  have  Don  Diego  de  Valdez,  a  cautious, 
silent,  sullen  old  sailor,  a  man  after  Philip's  own 
heart. 

Doubting,  hesitating,  the  Duke  repaired  to  Lis- 
bon. There  he  was  put  in  better  heart  by  a  nun, 
who  said  Our  Lady  had  sent  her  to  promise  him 
success.  Every  part  of  the  service  was  new  to  him. 
He  was  a  fussy,  anxious  little  man ;  set  himself 
to  inquire  into  everything,  to  meddle  with  things 


182     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

whicli  he  could  not  understand  and  had  better  have 
left  alone.  He  ought  to  have  left  details  to  the 
responsible  heads  of  departments.  He  fancied  that 
in  a  week  or  two  he  could  look  himself  into  every- 
thing. There  were  130  ships,  8,000  seamen,  19,000 
Spanish  infantry,  with  gentlemen  volunteers,  officers, 
priests,  surgeons,  galley  slaves — at  least  3,000  more 
— provisioned  for  six  months.  Then  there  were  the 
ships'  stores,  arms  small  and  great,  powder,  spars, 
cordage,  canvas,  and  such  other  million  necessities 
as  ships  on  service  need.  The  whole  of  this  the 
poor  Duke  took  on  himseK  to  examine  into,  and, 
as  he  could  not  understand  what  he  saw,  and  knew 
not  what  to  look  at,  nothing  was  examined  into  at 
all.  Everyone's  mind  was,  in  fact,  so  much  ab- 
sorbed by  the  spiritual  side  of  the  thing  that  they 
could  not  attend  to  vulgar  commonplaces.  Don 
Quixote,  when  he  set  out  on  his  expedition,  and 
forgot  money  and  a  change  of  linen,  was  not  in  a 
state  of  wilder  exaltation  than  Catholic  Europe  at 
the  sailing  of  the  Armada.  Every  noble  family  in 
Spain  had  sent  one  or  other  of  its  sons  to  fight  for 
Christ  and  Our  Lady. 

For  three  years  the  stream  of  prayer  had  been 
ascending  from  church,  cathedral,  or  oratory.  The 
King  had  emptied  his  treasury.  The  hidalgo  and 
the  tradesman  had  offered  their  contributions.  The 
crusade  against  the  Crescent  itself  had  not  kindled 
a  more  intense  or  more  sacred  enthusiasm.  All 
pains  were  taken  to  make  the  expedition  spiritually 
worthy  of  its  purpose.     No  impure  thing,  specially 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  183 

no  impure  woman,  was  to  approach  the  yards  or 
ships.  Swearing,  quarrelling,  gambling,  were  pro- 
hibited under  terrible  penalties.  The  galleons  were 
named  after  the  apostles  and  saints  to  whose  charge 
they  were  committed,  and  every  seaman  and  soldier 
confessed  and  communicated  on  going  on  board. 
The  shipboys  at  sunrise  were  to  sing  their  Buenos 
Dias  at  the  foot  of  the  mainmast,  and  their  Ave 
Maria  as  the  sun  sank  into  the  ocean.  On  the 
Imperial  banner  were  embroidered  the  figures  of 
Christ  and  His  Mother,  and  as  a  motto  the  haughty 
*  Plus  Ultra '  of  Charles  V.  was  replaced  with  the 
more  pious  aspiration,  'Exsurge,  Deus,  et  Arindica 
causam  tuam.' 

Nothing  could  be  better  if  the  more  vulgar  neces- 
sities had  been  looked  to  equally  well.  Unluckily, 
Medina  Sidonia  had  taken  the  inspection  of  these 
on  himself,  and  Medina  Sidonia  was  unable  to  cor- 
rect the  information  which  any  rascal  chose  to  give 
him. 

At  length,  at  the  end  of  April,  he  reported  him- 
self satisfied.  The  banner  was  blessed  in  the  cathe- 
dral, men  and  stores  all  on  board,  and  the  Invincible 
Armada  prepared  to  go  upon  its  way.  No  wonder 
Philip  was  confident.  A  hundred  and  thirty  gal- 
leons, from  1,300  to  700  tons,  30,000  fighting  men, 
besides  slaves  and  servants,  made  up  a  force  which 
the  world  might  well  think  invincible.  The  guns 
were  the  weakest  part.  There  were  twice  as  many 
as  the  English;  but  they  were  for  the  most  part 
nine  and  six  pounders,  and  with  but  fifty  rounds  to 


184    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

each.  The  Spaniards  had  done  their  sea  fighting 
hitherto  at  close  range,  grappling  and  trusting  to 
musketry.  They  were  to  receive  a  lesson  about 
this  before  the  summer  was  over.  But  Philip  him- 
self meanwhile  expected  evidently  that  he  would 
meet  with  no  opposition.  Of  priests  he  had  pro- 
vided 180;  of  surgeons  and  surgeons'  assistants 
eighty-five  only  for  the  whole  fieet. 

In  the  middle  of  May  he  sent  down  his  last 
orders.  The  Duke  was  not  to  seek  a  battle.  If  he 
fell  in  with  Drake  he  was  to  take  no  notice  of  him, 
but  thank  God,  as  Dogberry  said  to  the  watchman, 
that  he  was  rid  of  a  knave.  He  was  to  go  straight 
to  the  North  Foreland,  there  anchor  and  communi- 
cate with  Parma.  The  experienced  admirals  who 
had  learnt  their  trade  under  Santa  Cruz — Martinez 
de  Eecalde,  Pedro  de  Yaldez,  Miguel  de  Oquendo 
— strongly  urged  the  securing  Plymouth  or  the  Isle 
of  Wight  on  their  way  up  Channel.  This  had  evi- 
dently been  Santa  Cruz's  own  design,  and  the  only 
rational  one  to  have  followed.  Philip  did  not  see  it. 
He  did  not  believe  it  would  prove  necessary  ;  but  as 
to  this  and  as  to  fighting  he  left  them,  as  he  knew 
he  must  do,  a  certain  discretion. 

The  Duke,  then,  flying  the  sacred  banner  on 
the  San  Martin,  dropped  down  the  Tagus  on  the 
14th  of  May,  followed  by  the  whole  fleet.  The  San 
Martin  had  been  double-timbered  with  oak,  to  keep 
the  shot  out.  He  Hked  his  business  no  better.  In 
vain  he  repeated  to  himself  that  it  was  God's  cause. 
God  would  see  they  came  to  no  harm.    He  was  no 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  185 

sooner  in  the  open  sea  than  he  found  no  cause,  how- 
ever holy,  saved  men  from  the  consequences  of  their 
own  blimders.  They  were  late  out,  and  met  the 
north  trade  wind,  as  Santa  Cruz  had  foretold. 

They  drifted  to  leeward  day  by  day  till  they  had 
dropped  down  to  Cape  St.  Vincent.  Infinite  pains 
had  been  taken  with  the  spiritual  state  of  every  one 
on  board.  The  carelessness  or  roguery  of  contrac- 
tors and  purveyors  had  not  been  thought  of.  The 
water  had  been  taken  in  three  months  before.  It 
was  found  foul  and  stinking.  The  salt  beef,  the 
salt  pork,  and  fish  were  putrid,  the  bread  full  of 
maggots  and  cockroaches.  Cask  was  opened  after 
cask.  It  was  the  same  story  everywhere.  They 
had  to  be  all  thrown  overboard.  In  the  whole  fleet 
there  was  not  a  sound  morsel  of  food  but  biscuit 
and  dried  fruit.  The  men  went  down  in  hundred* 
with  dysentery.  The  Duke  bewailed  his  fate  as 
innocently  as  Sancho  Panza.  He  hoped  God  would 
help.  He  had  wished  no  harm  to  anybody.  He 
had  left  his  home  and  his  family  to  please  the  King, 
and  he  trusted  the  King  would  remember  it.  He 
wrote  piteously  for  fresh  stores,  if  the  King  would 
not  have  them  all  perish.  The  admirals  said  they 
could  go  no  further  without  fresh  water.  All  was 
dismay  and  confusion.  The  wind  at  last  fell  round 
south,  and  they  made  Finisterre.  It  then  came  on 
to  blow,  and  they  were  scattered.  The  Duke  with 
haK  the  fleet  crawled  into  Corunna,  the  crews  scarce 
able  to  man  the  yards  and  trying  to  desert  in  shoals. 

The  missing  ships  dropped  in  one  by  one,  but  a 


186     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

week  passed  and  a  third  of  them  were  still  absent. 
Another  despairing  letter  went  off  from  the  Duke  to 
his  master.  He  said  that  he  concluded  from  their 
misfortunes  that  God  disapproved  of  the  expedition, 
and  that  it  had  better  be  abandoned.  Diego  Florez 
was  of  the  same  opinion.  The  stores  were  worth- 
less, he  said.  The  men  were  sick  and  out  of  heart. 
Nothing  could  be  done  that  season. 

It  was  not  by  flinching  at  the  first  sight  of  dif- 
ficulty that  the  Spaniards  had  become  masters  of 
half  the  world.  The  old  comrades  of  Santa  Cruz 
saw  nothing  in  what  had  befallen  them  beyond  a 
common  accident  of  sea  life.  To  abandon  at  the  first 
check  an  enterprise  undertaken  with  so  much  pre- 
tence, they  said,  would  be  cowardly  and  dishonour- 
able. Ships  were  not  lost  because  they  were  out  of 
sight.  Fresh  meat  and  bread  could  be  taken  on 
board  from  Corunna.  They  could  set  up  a  shore  hos- 
pital for  the  sick.  The  sickness  was  not  dangerous. 
There  had  been  no  deaths.  A  little  energy  and  all 
would  be  well  again.  Pedro  de  Valdez  despatched 
a  courier  to  Philip  to  entreat  him  not  to  listen  to 
the  Duke's  croakings.  Philip  sent  a  speedy  answer 
telling  the  Duke  not  to  be  frightened  at  shadows. 

There  was  nothing,  in  fact,  really  to  be  alarmed 
at.  Fresh  water  took  away  the  dysentery.  Fresh 
food  was  brought  in  from  the  country.  Galician 
seamen  filled  the  gaps  made  by  the  deserters.  The 
ships  were  laid  on  shore  and  scraped  and  tallowed. 
Tents  were  pitched  on  an  island  in  the  harbour, 
with  altars   and   priests,  and   everyone    confessed 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  187 

again  and  received  the  Sacrament.  'This,'  wrote 
the  Duke,  'is  great  riches  and  a  precious  jewel, 
and  all  now  are  well  content  and  cheerful.'  The 
scattered  flock  had  reassembled.  Damages  were  all 
repaired,  and  the  only  harm  had  been  loss  of  time. 
Once  more,  on  the  23rd  of  July,  the  Armada  in  full 
numbers  was  under  way  for  England  and  streaming 
across  the  Bay  of  Biscay  with  a  fair  wind  for  the 
mouth  of  the  Channel. 

Leaving  the  Duke  for  the  moment,  we  must 
now  glance  at  the  preparations  made  in  England  to 
receive  him.  It  might  almost  be  said  that  there  were 
none  at  all.  The  winter  months  had  been  wild  and 
changeable,  but  not  so  wild  and  not  so  fluctuating 
as  the  mind  of  England's  mistress.  In  December 
her  fleet  had  been  paid  off  at  Chatham.  The  dan- 
ger of  leaving  the  country  without  any  regular  de- 
fence was  pressed  on  her  so  vehemently  that  she 
consented  to  allow  part  of  the  ships  to  be  recom- 
missioned.  The  Revenge  was  given  to  Drake.  He 
and  Howard,  the  Lord  Admiral,  were  to  have  gone 
with  a  mixed  squadron  from  the  Royal  Navy  and 
the  adventurers  down  to  the  Spanish  coast.  In  every 
loyal  subject  there  had  long  been  but  one  opinion, 
that  a  good  open  war  was  the  only  road  to  an  hon- 
ourable peace.  The  open  war,  they  now  trusted, 
was  come  at  last.  But  the  hope  was  raised  only  to 
be  disappointed.  With  the  news  of  Santa  Cruz's 
death  came  a  report  which  Elizabeth  greedily  be- 
lieved, that  the  Armada  was  dissolving  and  was  not 
coming  at  all.     Sir  James  Crofts  sang  the  usual 


188     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

song  that  Drake  and  Howard  wanted  war,  because 
war  was  their  trade.  She  recalled  her  orders.  She 
said  that  she  was  assured  of  peace  in  six  weeks,  and 
that  beyond  that  time  the  services  of  the  fleet  would 
not  be  required.  Half  the  men  engaged  were  to  be  dis- 
missed at  once  to  save  their  pay.  Drake  and  Lord 
Henry  Seymour  might  cruise  with  four  or  five  of 
the  Queen's  ships  between  Plymouth  and  the  So- 
lent. Lord  Howard  was  to  remain  in  the  Thames 
with  the  rest.  I  know  not  whether  swearing  was 
interdicted  in  the  English  navy  as  well  as  in  the 
Spanish,  but  I  will  answer  for  it  that  Howard  did 
not  spare  his  language  when  this  missive  reached 
him.  *  Never,'  he  said,  '  since  England  was  England 
was  such  a  stratagem  made  to  deceive  us  as  this 
treaty.  We  have  not  hands  left  to  carry  the  ships 
back  to  Chatham.  We  are  like  bears  tied  to  a 
stake ;  the  Spaniards  may  come  to  worry  us  like 
dogs,  and  we  cannot  hurt  them.' 

It  was  well  for  England  that  she  had  other  de- 
fenders than  the  wildly  managed  navy  of  the  Queen. 
Historians  tell  us  how  the  gentlemen  of  the  coast 
came  out  in  their  own  vessels  to  meet  the  invaders. 
Come  they  did,  but  who  were  they?  Ships  that 
could  fight  the  Spanish  galleons  were  not  made  in 
a  day  or  a  week.  They  were  built  already.  They 
were  manned  by  loyal  subjects,  the  business  of 
whose  lives  had  been  to  meet  the  enemies  of  their 
land  and  faith  on  the  wide  ocean — not  by  those  who 
had  been  watching  with  divided  hearts  for  a  Catho- 
lic revolution. 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  189 

March  went  by,  and  sure  intelligence  came  that 
the  Armada  was  not  dissolving.  Again  Drake 
prayed  the  Queen  to  let  him  take  the  Bevenge  and 
the  Western  adventurers  down  to  Lisbon ;  but  the 
commissioners  wrote  full  of  hope  from  Ostend,  and 
Elizabeth  was  afraid  'the  King  of  Spain  might  take 
it  ill.'  She  found  fault  with  Drake's  expenses.  She 
charged  him  with  wasting  her  ammunition  in  target 
practice.  She  had  it  doled  out  to  him  in  driblets, 
and  allowed  no  more  than  would  serve  for  a  day 
and  a  half's  service.  She  kept  a  sharp  hand  on  the 
victualling  houses.  April  went,  and  her  four  finest 
ships — the  Triumph,  the  Victory,  the  Elizabeth 
Jonas,  and  the  Bear — were  still  with  sails  unbent, 
'keeping  Chatham  church.'  She  said  they  would 
not  be  wanted  and  it  would  be  waste  of  money  to 
refit  them.  Again  she  was  forced  to  yield  at  last, 
and  the  four  ships  were  got  to  sea  in  time,  the 
workmen  in  the  yards  making  up  for  the  delay ;  but 
she  had  few  enough  when  her  whole  fleet  was  out 
upon  the  Channel,  and  but  for  the  privateers  there 
would  have  been  an  ill  reckoning  when  the  trial 
came.  The  Armada  was  coming  now.  There  was 
no  longer  a  doubt  of  it.  Lord  Henry  Seymour  was 
left  with  five  Queen's  ships  and  thirty  London  ad- 
venturers to  watch  Parma  and  the  Narrow  Seas. 
Howard,  carrying  his  own  flag  in  the  Ark  Baleigh, 
joined  Drake  at  Plymouth  with  seventeen  others. 

Still  the  numbing  hand  of  his  mistress  pursued 
him.  Food  supplies  had  been  issued  to  the  middle 
of  June,  and  no  more  was  to  be  allowed.     The 


190    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

weather  was  desperate — wildest  snmmer  ever  known. 
The  south-west  gales  brought  the  Atlantic  rollers 
into  the  Sound.  Drake  lay  inside,  perhaps  behind 
the  island  which  bears  his  name.  Howard  rode  out 
the  gales  under  Mount  Edgecumbe,  the  days  going 
by  and  the  provisions  wasting.  The  rations  were 
cut  down  to  make  the  stores  last  longer.  Owing  to 
the  many  changes  the  crews  had  been  hastily  raised. 
They  were  ill-clothed,  ill-provided  every  way,  but 
they  complained  of  nothing,  caught  fish  to  mend 
their  mess  dinners,  and  prayed  only  for  the  speedy 
coming  of  the  enemy.  Even  Howard's  heart  failed 
him  now.  English  sailors  would  do  what  could  be 
done  by  man,  but  they  could  not  fight  with  famine. 
*  Awake,  Madam,'  he  wrote  to  the  Queen,  *  awake, 
for  the  love  of  Christ,  and  see  the  villainous  treasons 
round  about  you.'  He  goaded  her  into  ordering 
supplies  for  one  more  month,  but  this  was  to  be 
positively  the  last.  The  victuallers  inquired  if  they 
should  make  further  preparations.  She  answered 
peremptorily,  *No;'  and  again  the  weeks  ran  on. 
The  contractors,  it  seemed,  had  caught  her  spirit, 
for  the  beer  which  had  been  furnished  for  the  fleet 
turned  sour,  and  those  who  drank  it  sickened.  The 
oflScers,  on  their  own  responsibility,  ordered  wine 
and  arrowroot  for  the  sick  out  of  Plymouth,  to  be 
called  to  a  sharp  account  when  all  was  over.  Again 
the  rations  were  reduced.  Four  weeks'  allowance 
was  stretched  to  serve  for  six,  and  still  the  Spaniards 
did  not  come.  So  England's  forlorn  hope  was 
treated  at  the  crisis  of  her  destiny.     The  prepara- 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  191 

tions  on  land  were  scarcely  better.  The  militia  had 
been  caUed  out.  A  hundred  thousand  men  had 
given  their  names,  and  the  stations  had  been  ar- 
ranged where  they  were  to  assemble  if  the  enemy 
attempted  a  landing.  But  there  were  no  reserves, 
no  magazines  of  arms,  no  stores  or  tents,  no  requis- 
ites for  an  army  save  the  men  themselves  and  what 
local  resources  could  furnish.  For  a  general  the 
Queen  had  chosen  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  might 
have  the  merit  of  fidelity  to  herself,  but  otherwise 
was  the  worst  fitted  that  she  could  have  found  in 
her  whole  dominions ;  and  the  Prince  of  Parma  was 
coming,  if  he  came  at  all,  at  the  head  of  the  best- 
provided  and  best  -  disciplined  troops  in  Europe. 
The  hope  of  England  at  that  moment  was  in  her  pa- 
tient sujQfering  sailors  at  Plymouth.  Each  morning 
they  looked  out  passionately  for  the  Spanish  sails. 
Time  was  a  worse  enemy  than  the  galleons.  The 
six  weeks  would  be  soon  gone,  and  the  Queen's 
ships  must  then  leave  the  seas  if  the  crews  were 
not  to  starve.  Drake  had  certain  news  that  the 
Armada  had  sailed.  Where  was  it?  Once  he  dashed 
out  as  far  as  Ushant,  but  turned  back,  lest  it  should 
pass  him  in  the  night  and  find  Plymouth  unde- 
fended ;  and  smaller  grew  the  messes  and  leaner  and 
paler  the  seamen's  faces.  Still  not  a  man  murmured 
or  gave  in.     They  had  no  leisure  to  be  sick. 

The  last  week  of  July  had  now  come.  There 
were  half-rations  for  one  week  more,  and  powder  for 
two  days'  fighting.  That  was  all.  On  so  light  a 
thread  such  mighty  issues  were  now  depending.     On 


192    JSnglish  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Friday,  the  23rd,  the  Armada  had  started  for  the 
second  time,  the  numbers  undiminished;  religious 
fervour  burning  again,  and  heart  and  hope  high  as 
ever.  Saturday,  Sunday,  and  Monday  they  sailed 
on  with  a  smooth  sea  and  soft  south  winds,  and  on 
Monday  night  the  Duke  found  himself  at  the  Chan- 
nel mouth  with  all  his  flock  about  him.  Tuesday 
morning  the  wind  shifted  to  the  north,  then  backed 
to  the  west,  and  blew  hard.  The  sea  got  up,  broke 
into  the  stem  galleries  of  the  galleons,  and  sent  the 
galleys  looking  for  shelter  in  French  harbours.  The 
fleet  hove  to  for  a  couple  of  days,  till  the  weather 
mended.  On  Friday  afternoon  they  sighted  the 
Lizard  and  formed  into  fighting  order ;  the  Duke  in 
the  centre,  Alonzo  de  Leyva  leading  in  a  vessel  of 
his  own  called  the  Rata  Goronada,  Don  Martin  de 
Recalde  covering  the  rear.  The  entire  line  stretched 
to  about  seven  miles. 

The  sacred  banner  was  run  up  to  the  masthead  of 
the  San  Martin.  Each  ship  saluted  with  all  her 
guns,  and  every  man — officer,  noble,  seaman,  or 
slave — knelt  on  the  decks  at  a  given  signal  to  com- 
mend themselves  to  Mary  and  her  Son.  We  shall 
miss  the  meaning  of  this  high  epic  story  if  we  do 
not  realise  that  both  sides  had  the  most  profound 
conviction  that  they  were  fighting  the  battle  of  the 
Almighty.  Two  principles,  freedom  and  authority, 
were  contending  for  the  guidance  of  mankind.  In 
the  evening  the  Duke  sent  off  two  fast  fly-boats  to 
Parma  to  announce  his  arrival  in  the  Channel,  with 
another  reporting  progress  to  Philip,  and  saying  that 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  193 

till  he  heard  from  the  Prince  he  meant  to  stop  at 
the  Isle  of  Wight.  It  is  commonly  said  that  his 
officers  advised  him  to  go  in  and  take  Plymouth. 
There  is  no  evidence  for  this.  The  island  would 
have  been  a  far  more  useful  position  for  them. 

At  dark  that  Friday  night  the  beacons  were  seen 
blazing  all  up  the  coast  and  inland  on  the  tops  of 
the  hills.  They  crept  on  slowly  through  Saturday, 
with  reduced  canvas,  feeling  their  way — not  a  sail 
to  be  seen.  At  midnight  a  pinnace  brought  in  a 
fishing  boat,  from  which  they  learnt  that  on  the 
sight  of  the  signal  fires  the  English  had  come  out 
that  morning  from  Plymouth.  Presently,  when  the 
moon  rose,  they  saw  sails  passing  between  them  and 
the  land.  With  daybreak  the  whole  scene  became 
visible,  and  the  curtain  lifted  on  the  first  act  of  the 
drama.  The  Armada  was  between  Rame  Head  and 
the  Eddystone,  or  a  little  to  the  west  of  it.  Ply- 
mouth Sound  was  right  open  to  their  left.  The 
breeze,  which  had  dropped  in  the  night,  was  fresh- 
ening from  the  south-west,  and  right  ahead  of  them, 
outside  the  Mew  Stone,  were  eleven  ships  manoeu- 
vring to  recover  the  wind.  Towards  the  land  were 
some  forty  others,  of  various  sizes,  and  this  formed, 
as  far  as  they  could  see,  the  whole  English  force. 
In  numbers  the  Spaniards  were  nearly  three  to  one. 
In  the  size  of  the  ships  there  was  no  comparison. 
With  these  advantages  the  Duke  decided  to  engage^ 
and  a  signal  was  made  to  hold  the  wind  and  keep 
the  enemy  apart.  The  eleven  ships  ahead  were 
Howard's  squadron ;  those  inside  were  Drake  and 
13 


194    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

the  adventurers.  With  some  surprise  the  Spanish 
oflScers  saw  Howard  reach  easily  to  windward  out 
of  range  and  join  Drake.  The  whole  English  fleet 
then  passed  out  close-hauled  in  line  behind  them 
and  swept  along  their  rear,  using  guns  more  power- 
ful than  theirs  and  pouring  in  broadsides  from  safe 
distance  with  deadly  effect.  Eecalde,  with  Alonzo 
de  Leyva  and  Oquendo,  who  came  to  his  help,  tried 
desperately  to  close ;  but  they  could  make  nothing 
of  it.  They  were  out-sailed  and  out-cannoned. 
The  English  fired  five  shots  to  one  of  theirs,  and 
the  effect  was  the  more  destructive  because,  as  with 
Rodney's  action  at  Dominica,  the  galleons  were 
crowded  with  troops,  and  shot  and  splinters  told 
terribly  among  them. 

The  experience  was  new  and  not  agreeable. 
Recalde's  division  was  badly  cut  up,  and  a  Spaniard 
present  observes  that  certain  officers  showed  cow- 
ardice— a  hit  at  the  Duke,  who  had  kept  out  of  fire. 
The  action  lasted  till  four  in  the  afternoon.  The 
wind  was  then  freshening  fast  and  the  sea  rising. 
Both  fleets  had  by  this  time  passed  the  Sound,  and 
the  Duke,  seeing  that  nothing  could  be  done,  sig- 
nalled to  bear  away  up  Channel,  the  English  fol- 
lowing two  miles  astern.  Recalde's  own  ship  had 
been  an  especial  sufferer.  She  was  observed  to  be 
leaking  badly,  to  drop  behind,  and  to  be  in  danger 
of  capture.  Pedro  de  Valdez  wore  round  to  help 
him  in  the  Capitana,  of  the  Andalusian  squadron, 
fouled  the  Santa  Caialina  in  turning,  broke  his  bow- 
sprit and  foretopmast,  and  became  unmanageable. 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  195 

The  Andalusian  Capitana  was  one  of  the  finest  ships 
in.  the  Spanish  fleet,  and  Don  Pedro  one  of  the 
ablest  and  most  popular  commanders.  She  had 
500  men  on  board,  a  large  sum  of  money,  and, 
among  other  treasures,  a  box  of  jewel-hilted  swords, 
which  Philip  was  sending  over  to  the  English  Cath- 
olic peers.  But  it  was  growing  dark.  Sea  and  sky 
looked  ugly.  The  Duke  was  flurried,  and  signalled 
to  go  on  and  leave  Don  Pedro  to  his  fate.  Alonzo 
de  Leyva  and  Oquendo  rushed  on  board  the  San 
Martin  to  protest.  It  was  no  use.  Diego  Florez 
said  he  could  not  risk  the  safety  of  the  fleet  for  a 
single  officer.  The  deserted  Capitana  made  a  brave 
defence,  but  could  not  save  herself,  and  fell,  with 
the  jewelled  swords,  60,000  ducats,  and  a  welcome 
supply  of  powder,  into  Drake's  hands. 

OS  the  Start  there  was  a  fresh  disaster.  Every 
one  was  in  ill-humour.  A  quarrel  broke  out  between 
the  soldiers  and  seamen  in  Oquendo's  galleon.  He 
was  himself  still  absent.  Some  wretch  or  other 
flung  a  torch  into  the  powder  magazine  and  jumped 
overboard.  The  deck  was  blown  off,  and  200  men 
along  with  it. 

Two  such  accidents  following  an  unsuccessful  en- 
gagement did  not  tend  to  reconcile  the  Spaniards 
to  the  Duke's  command.  Pedro  de  Valdez  was 
universally  loved  and  honoured,  and  his  desertion 
in  the  face  of  an  enemy  so  inferior  in  numbers 
was  regarded  as  scandalous  poltroonery.  Monday 
morning  broke  heavily.  The  wind  was  gone,  but 
there  was  still  a  considerable  swell.     The  English 


196    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

were  hull  down  behind.  The  day  was  spent  in 
repairing  damages  and  nailing  lead  over  the  shot- 
holes.  Recalde  was  moved  to  the  front,  to  be  out 
of  harm's  way,  and  De  Leyva  took  his  post  in  the 
rear. 

At  sunset  they  were  outside  Portland.  The 
English  had  come  up  within  a  league ;  but  it  was 
now  dead  calm,  and  they  drifted  apart  in  the  tide. 
The  Duke  thought  of  nothing,  but  at  midnight  the 
Spanish  officers  stirred  him  out  of  his  sleep  to  urge 
him  to  set  his  great  galleasses  to  work ;  now  was 
their  chance.  The  dawn  brought  a  chance  still 
better,  for  it  brought  an  east  wind,  and  the  Span- 
iards had  now  the  weather-gage.  Could  they  once 
close  and  grapple  with  the  English  ships,  their 
superior  numbers  would  then  assure  them  a  victory, 
and  Howard,  being  to  leeward  and  inshore,  would 
have  to  pass  through  the  middle  of  the  Spanish  line 
to  recover  his  advantage.  However,  it  was  the  same 
story.  The  Spaniards  could  not  use  an  opportunity 
when  they  had  one.  New-modelled  for  superiority 
of  sailing,  the  English  ships  had  the  same  advan- 
tage over  the  galleons  as  the  steam  cruisers  would 
have  over  the  old  three-deckers.  While  the  breeze 
held  they  went  where  they  pleased.  The  Spaniards 
were  out-sailed,  out-matched,  crushed  by  guns  of 
longer  range  than  theirs.  Their  own  shot  flew  high 
over  the  low  English  hulls,  while  every  ball  found 
its  way  through  their  own  towering  sides.  This 
time  the  San  Martin  was  in  the  thick  of  it.  Her 
double   timbers  were  ripped  and   torn;  the  holy 


Scdling  of  the  Armada  197 

standard  was  cut  in  two  ;  the  water  poured  through 
the  shot-holes.  The  men  lost  their  nerve.  In  such 
ships  as  had  no  gentlemen  on  board  notable  signs 
were  observed  of  flinching. 

At  the  end  of  that  day's  fighting  the  English 
powder  gave  out.  Two  days'  service  had  been  the 
limit  of  the  Queen's  allowance.  Howard  had 
pressed  for  a  more  liberal  supply  at  the  last  mo- 
ment, and  had  received  the  characteristic  answer 
that  he  must  state  precisely  how  much  he  wanted 
before  more  could  be  sent.  The  lighting  of  the 
beacons  had  quickened  the  official  pulse  a  little. 
A  small  addition  had  been  despatched  to  Weymouth 
or  Poole,  and  no  more  could  be  done  till  it  arrived. 
The  Duke,  meanwhile,  was  left  to  smooth  his 
ruffled  plumes  and  drift  on  upon  his  way.  But  by 
this  time  England  was  awake.  Fresh  privateers, 
with  powder,  meat,  bread,  fruit,  anything  that  they 
could  bring,  were  pouring  out  from  the  Dorsetshire 
harbours.  Sir  George  Carey  had  come  from  the 
Needles  in  time  to  share  the  honours  of  the  last 
battle,  'round  shot,'  as  he  said,  'flying  thick  as 
musket  balls  in  a  skirmish  on  land.' 

The  Duke  had  observed  uneasily  from  the  San 
Martin's  deck  that  his  pursuers  were  growing 
numerous.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  definitely  to 
go  for  the  Isle  of  Wight,  shelter  his  fleet  in  the  So- 
lent, land  10,000  men  in  the  island,  and  stand  on  his 
defence  till  he  heard  from  Parma.  He  must  fight 
another  battle ;  but,  cut  up  as  he  had  been,  he  had 
as  yet  lost  but  two  ships,  and  those  by  accident. 


198    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

He  might  fairly  hope  to  force  his  way  in  with  help 
from  above,  for  which  he  had  special  reason  to  look 
in  the  next  engagement.  Wednesday  was  a  breath- 
less calm.  The  English  were  taking  in  their  sup- 
plies. The  Armada  lay  still,  repairing  damages. 
Thursday  would  be  St.  Dominic's  Day.  St.  Dom- 
inic belonged  to  the  Duke's  own  family,  and  was 
his  patron  saint.  St.  Dominic,  he  felt  sure,  would 
now  stand  by  his  kinsman. 

The  morning  broke  with  a  light  air.  The  Eng- 
lish would  be  less  able  to  move,  and  with  the  help 
of  the  galleasses  he  might  hope  to  come  to  close 
quarters  at  last.  Howard  seemed  inclined  to  give 
him  his  wish.  With  just  wind  enough  to  move  the 
Lord  Admiral  led  in  the  Ark  Raleigh  straight  down 
on  the  Spanish  centre.  The  Ark  outsailed  her  con- 
sorts and  found  herself  alone  with  the  galleons  all 
round  her.  At  that  moment  the  wind  dropped. 
The  Spanish  boarding-parties  were  at  their  posts. 
The  tops  were  manned  with  musketeers,  the  grap- 
pling irons  aU  prepared  to  fling  into  the  Ark's  rig- 
ging. In  imagination  the  English  Admiral  was 
their  own.  But  each  day's  experience  was  to  teach 
them  a  new  lesson.  Eleven  boats  dropped  from 
the  Ark's  sides  and  took  her  in  tow.  The  breeze 
rose  again  as  she  began  to  move.  Her  sails  fiUed, 
and  she  slipped  away  through  the  water,  leaving  the 
Spaniards  as  if  they  were  at  anchor,  staring  in  help- 
less amazement.  The  wind  brought  up  Drake  and 
the  rest,  and  then  began  again  the  terrible  cannon- 
ade from  which  the  Armada  had  already  suffered  so 


Sailing  of  the  Armada  199 

frightfully.  It  seemed  that  morning  as  if  the  Eng- 
lish were  using  guns  of  even  heavier  metal  than  on 
either  of  the  preceding  days.  The  armament  had 
not  been  changed.  The  growth  was  in  their  own 
frightened  imagination.  The  Duke  had  other 
causes  for  uneasiness.  His  own  magazines  were 
also  giving  out  under  the  unexpected  demands  up- 
on them.  One  battle  was  the  utmost  which  he  had 
looked  for.  He  had  fought  three,  and  the  end  was 
no  nearer  than  before.  With  resolution  he  might 
still  have  made  his  way  into  St.  Helen's  roads,  for 
the  English  were  evidently  afraid  to  close  with 
him.  But  when  St.  Dominic,  too,  failed  him  he  lost 
his  head.  He  lost  his  heart,  and  losing  heart  he 
lost  all.  In  the  Solent  he  would  have  been  com- 
paratively safe,  and  he  could  easily  have  taken  the 
Isle  of  Wight ;  but  his  one  thought  now  was  to  find 
safety  under  Parma's  gaberdine  and  make  for  Calais 
or  Dunkirk.  He  supposed  Parma  to  have  already 
embarked,  on  hearing  of  his  coming,  with  a  second 
armed  fleet,  and  in  condition  for  immediate  action. 
He  sent  on  another  pinnace,  pressing  for  help, 
pressing  for  ammunition,  and  fly-boats  to  protect 
the  galleons  ;  and  Parma  was  himself  looking  to  be 
supplied  from  the  Armada,  with  no  second  fleet  at 
all,  only  a  flotilla  of  river  barges  which  would  need 
a  week's  work  to  be  prepared  for  the  crossing. 

Philip  had  provided  a  splendid  fleet,  a  splendid 
army,  and  the  finest  sailors  in  the  world  except  the 
English.  He  had  failed  to  realise  that  the  grandest 
preparations  are  useless  with  a  fool  to  command. 


200    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

The  poor  Duke  was  less  to  blame  than  his  master. 
An  office  had  been  thrust  upon  him  for  which  he 
knew  that  he  had  not  a  single  qualification.  His 
one  anxiety  was  to  find  Parma,  lay  the  weight  on 
Parma's  shoulders,  and  so  have  done  with  it. 

On  Friday  he  was  left  alone  to  make  his  way  up 
Channel  towards  the  French  shore.  The  English 
still  followed,  but  he  counted  that  in  Calais  roads 
he  would  be  in  French  waters,  where  they  would 
not  dare  to  meddle  with  him.  They  would  then, 
he  thought,  go  home  and  annoy  him  no  further. 
As  he  dropped  anchor  in  the  dusk  outside  Calais  on 
Saturday  evening  he  saw,  to  his  disgust,  that  the  en- 
demoniada  gente — the  infernal  devils — as  he  called 
them,  had  brought  up  at  the  same  moment  with 
himself,  half  a  league  astern  of  him.  His  one  trust 
was  in  the  Prince  of  Parma,  and  Parma  at  any  rate 
was  now  within  touch. 


LECTUKE  IX 

DEFEAT  OF  THE  ABMADA 

In  the  gallery  at  Madrid  there  is  a  picture,  painted 
by  Titian,  representing  the  Genius  of  Spain  coming 
to  the  delivery  of  the  aflBdcted  Bride  of  Christ. 
Titian  was  dead,  but  the  temper  of  the  age  survived, 
and  in  the  study  of  that  great  picture  you  will  see 
the  spirit  in  which  the  Spanish  nation  had  set  out 
for  the  conquest  of  England.  The  scene  is  the 
seashore.  The  Church  a  naked  Andromeda,  with 
dishevelled  hair,  fastened  to  the  trunk  of  an  ancient 
disbranched  tree.  The  cross  lies  at  her  feet,  the 
cup  overturned,  the  serpents  of  heresy  biting  at  her 
from  behind  with  uplifted  crests.  Coming  on  be- 
fore a  leading  breeze  is  the  sea  monster,  the  Moslem 
fleet,  eager  for  their  prey  ;  while  in  front  is  Perseus, 
the  Genius  of  Spain,  banner  in  hand,  with  the  le- 
gions of  the  faithful  laying  not  raiment  before 
him,  but  shield  and  helmet,  the  apparel  of  war  for 
the  Lady  of  Nations  to  clothe  herself  with  strength 
and  smite  her  foes. 

In  the  Armada  the  crusading  enthusiasm  had 
reached  its  point  and  focus.  England  was  the 
stake  to  which  the  Virgin,  the  daughter  of  Sion, 
was  bound  in  captivity.     Perseus  had  come  at  last 


202    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

in  the  person  of  the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  and 
with  him  all  that  was  best  and  brightest  in  the 
countrymen  of  Cervantes,  to  break  her  bonds  and 
replace  her  on  her  throne.  They  had  sailed  into  the 
Channel  in  pious  hope,  with  the  blessed  banner 
waving  over  their  heads. 

To  be  the  executor  of  the  decrees  of  Providence  is 
a  lofty  ambition,  but  men  in  a  state  of  high  emotion 
overlook  the  precautions  which  are  not  to  be  dis- 
pensed with  even  on  the  sublimest  of  errands.  Don 
Quixote,  when  he  set  out  to  redress  the  wrongs  of 
humanity,  forgot  that  a  change  of  linen  might  be 
necessary,  and  that  he  must  take  money  with  him 
to  pay  his  hotel  bills.  Philip  II.,  in  sending  the 
Armada  to  England,  and  confident  in  supernatural 
protection,  imagined  an  unresisted  triumphal  pro- 
cession. He  forgot  that  contractors  might  be  ras- 
cals, that  water  four  months  in  the  casks  in  a  hot 
climate  turned  putrid,  and  that  putrid  water  would 
poison  his  ships'  companies,  though  his  crews  were 
companies  of  angels.  He  forgot  that  the  servants 
of  the  evil  one  might  fight  for  their  mistress  after 
all,  and  that  he  must  send  adequate  supplies  of 
powder,  and,  worst  f orgetfulness  of  all,  that  a  great 
naval  expedition  required  a  leader  who  understood 
his  business.  Perseus,  in  the  shape  of  the  Duke  of 
Medina  Sidonia,  after  a  week  of  disastrous  battles, 
found  himself  at  the  end  of  it  in  an  exposed  road- 
stead, where  he  ought  never  to  have  been,  nine- 
tenths  of  his  provisions  thrown  overboard  as  unfit 
for  food,  his  ammunition  exhausted  by  the  unforeseen 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  203 

demands  upon  it,  the  seamen  and  soldiers  harassed 
and  dispirited,  officers  the  whole  week  without  sleep, 
and  the  enemy,  who  had  hunted  him  from  Plymouth 
to  Calais,  anchored  within  half  a  league  of  him. 

Still,  after  all  his  misadventures,  he  had  brought 
the  fleet,  if  not  to  the  North  Foreland,  yet  within  a 
few  miles  of  it,  and  to  outward  appearance  not  ma- 
terially injured.  Two  of  the  gaUeons  had  been 
taken  ;  a  third,  the  Santa  Ana,  had  strayed ;  and  his 
galleys  had  left  him,  being  found  too  weak  for  the 
Channel  sea  ;  but  the  great  armament  had  reached 
its  destination  substantially  uninjured  so  far  as 
English  eyes  could  see.  Hundreds  of  men  had 
been  killed  and  hundreds  more  wounded,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  rest  had  been  shaken.  But  the  loss  of 
life  could  only  be  conjectured  on  board  the  English 
fleet.  The  English  admiral  could  only  see  that  the 
Duke  was  now  in  touch  with  Parma.  Parma,  they 
knew,  had  an  army  at  Dunkirk  with  him,  which  was 
to  cross  to  England.  He  had  been  collecting  men, 
barges,  and  transports  all  the  winter  and  spring,  and 
the  backward  state  of  Parma's  preparations  could 
not  be  anticipated,  still  less  relied  upon.  The  Cal- 
ais anchorage  was  unsafe ;  but  at  that  season  of  the 
year,  especially  after  a  wet  summer,  the  weather 
usually  settled;  and  to  attack  the  Spaniards  in  a 
French  port  might  be  dangerous  for  many  reasons. 
It  was  uncertain  after  the  day  of  the  Barricades 
whether  the  Duke  of  Guise  or  Henry  of  Valois  was 
master  of  France,  and  a  violation  of  the  neutrality 
laws  might  easily  at  that  moment  bring  Guise  and 


204    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

France  into  the  field  on  the  Spaniards'  side.  It 
was,  no  doubt,  with  some  such  expectation  that  the 
Duke  and  his  advisers  had  chosen  Calais  as  the 
point  at  which  to  bring  up.  It  was  now  Saturday, 
the  7th  of  August.  The  governor  of  the  town  came 
off  in  the  evening  to  the  San  Martin.  He  expressed 
surprise  to  see  the  Spanish  fleet  in  so  exposed  a 
position,  but  he  was  profuse  in  his  offers  of  service. 
Anything  which  the  Duke  required  should  be  pro- 
vided, especially  every  facility  for  communicating 
with  Dunkirk  and  Parma.  The  Duke  thanked  him, 
said  that  he  supposed  Parma  to  be  already  em- 
barked with  his  troops,  ready  for  the  passage,  and 
that  his  own  stay  in  the  roads  would  be  but  brief. 
On  Monday  momkig  at  latest  he  expected  that  the 
attempt  to  cross  would  be  made.  The  governor 
took  his  leave,  and  the  Duke,  relieved  from  his  anx- 
ieties, was  left  to  a  peaceful  night.  He  was  dis- 
turbed on  the  Sunday  morning  by  an  express  from 
Parma  informing  him  that,  so  far  from  being  em- 
barked, the  army  could  not  be  ready  for  a  fortnight. 
The  barges  were  not  in  condition  for  sea.  The 
troops  were  in  camp.  The  arms  and  stores  were  on 
the  quays  at  Dunkirk.  As  for  the  fly-boats  and 
ammunition  which  the  Duke  had  asked  for,  he  had 
none  to  spare.  He  had  himself  looked  to  be  sup- 
plied from  the  Armada.  He  promised  to  use  his 
best  expedition,  but  the  Duke,  meanwhile,  must  see 
to  the  safety  of  the  fleet. 

Unwelcome  news  to  a  harassed  landsman  thrust 
into  the  position  of  an  admiral  and  eager  to  be  rid 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  205 

of  his  responsibilities.  If  by  evil  fortune  the  north- 
wester should  come  down  upon  him,  with  the  shoals 
and  sandbanks  close  under  his  lee,  he  would  be  in  a 
bad  way.  Nor  was  the  view  behind  him  calculated 
for  comfort.  There  lay  the  enemy  almost  within 
gunshot,  who,  though  scarcely  more  than  half  his 
numbers,  had  hunted  him  like  a  pack  of  blood- 
hounds, and,  worse  than  all,  in  double  strength ;  for 
the  Thames  squadron — three  Queen's  ships  and 
thirty  London  adventurers — under  Lord  H.  Sey- 
mour and  Sir  John  Hawkins,  had  crossed  in  the 
night.  There  they  were  between  him  and  Cape 
Grisnez,  and  the  reinforcements  meant  plainly 
enough  that  mischief  was  in  the  wind. 

After  a  week  so  trying  the  Spanish  crews  would 
have  been  glad  of  a  Sunday's  rest  if  they  could  have 
had  it ;  but  the  rough  handling  which  they  had  gone 
through  had  thrown  everything  into  disorder.  The 
sick  and  wounded  had  to  be  cared  for,  torn  rigging 
looked  to,  splintered  timbers  mended,  decks  scoured, 
and  guns  and  arms  cleaned  up  and  put  to  rights. 
And  so  it  was  that  no  rest  could  be  allowed;  so 
much  had  to  be  done,  and  so  busy  was  everyone,  that 
the  usual  rations  were  not  served  out  and  the  Sun- 
day was  kept  as  a  fast.  In  the  afternoon  the  stew- 
ards went  ashore  for  fresh  meat  and  vegetables. 
They  came  back  with  their  boats  loaded,  and  the 
prospect  seemed  a  little  less  gloomy.  Suddenly, 
as  the  Duke  and  a  group  of  officers  were  watching 
the  English  fleet  from  the  San  MartirCs  poop  deck, 
a  small  smart  pinnace,  carrying  a  gun  in  her  bow, 


206    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

shot  out  from  Howard's  lines,  bore  down  on  the  San 
Martin,  sailed  round  her,  sending  in  a  shot  or  two  as 
she  passed,  and  went  off  unhurt.  The  Spanish  of- 
ficers could  not  help  admiring  such  airy  imperti- 
nence. Hugo  de  Monyada  sent  a  ball  after  the 
pinnace,  which  went  through  her  mainsail,  but 
did  no  damage,  and  the  pinnace  again  disappeared 
behind  the  English  ships. 

So  a  Spanish  ofl&cer  describes  the  scene.  The 
^Pnglish  story  says  nothing  of  the  pinnace ;  but  she 
doubtless  came  and  went  as  the  Spaniard  says,  and 
for  sufficient  purpose.  The  English,  too,  were  in 
straits,  though  the  Duke  did  not  dream  of  it.  You 
will  remember  that  the  last  supplies  which  the 
Queen  had  allowed  to  the  fleet  had  been  issued  in  the 
middle  of  June.  They  were  to  serve  for  a  month, 
and  the  contractors  were  forbidden  to  prepare  more. 
The  Queen  had  clung  to  her  hope  that  her  differ- 
ences with  Philip  were  to  be  settled  by  the  Commis- 
sion at  Ostend;  and  she  feared  that  if  Drake  and 
Howard  were  too  well  furnished  they  would  venture 
some  fresh  rash  stroke  on  the  coast  of  Spain,  which 
might  mar  the  negotiations.  Their  month's  provi-. 
sions  had  been  stretched  to  serve  for  six  weeks,  and 
when  the  Armada  appeared  but  two  full  days'  ra- 
tions remained.  On  these  they  had  fought  their 
way  up  Channel.  Something  had  been  brought  out 
by  private  exertion  on  the  Dorsetshire  coast,  and 
Seymour  had,  perhaps,  brought  a  little  more.  But  they 
were  still  in  extremity.  The  contractors  had  warned 
the  Government  that  they  could  provide  nothing 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  207 

without  notice,  and  notice  had  not  been  given.  The 
adventurers  were  in  better  state,having  been  equipped 
by  private  owners.  But  the  Queen's  ships  in  a  day 
or  two  more  must  either  go  home  or  their  crews 
would  be  starving.  They  had  been  on  reduced  ra- 
tions for  near  two  months.  Worse  than  that,  they 
were  still  poisoned  by  the  sour  beer.  The  Queen 
had  changed  her  mind  so  often,  now  ordering  the 
fleet  to  prepare  for  sea,  then  recalling  her  instruc- 
tions and  paying  off  the  men,  that  those  whom  How- 
ard had  with  him  had  been  enlisted  in  haste,  had 
come  on  board  as  they  were,  and  their  clothes  were 
hanging  in  rags  on  them.  The  fighting  and  the 
sight  of  the  flying  Spaniards  were  meat  and  drink, 
and  clothing  too,  and  had  made  them  careless  of 
all  else.  There  was  no  fear  of  mutiny ;  but  there 
was  a  limit  to  the  toughest  endurance.  If  the  Ar- 
mada was  left  undisturbed  a  long  struggle  might  be 
still  before  them.  The  enemy  would  recover  from 
its  flurry,  and  Parma  would  come  out  from  Dunkirk. 
To  attack  them  directly  in  French  waters  might 
lead  to  perilous  complications,  while  delay  meant 
famine.  The  Spanish  fleet  had  to  be  started  from 
the  roads  in  some  way.  Done  it  must  be,  and  done 
immediately. 

Then,  on  that  same  Sunday  afternoon  a  memor- 
able council  of  war  was  held  in  the  Arh's  main  cabin. 
Howard,  Drake,  Seymour,  Hawkins,  Martin  Fro- 
bisher,  and  two  or  three  others  met  to  consult, 
knowing  that  on  them  at  that  moment  the  liberties 
of  England  were  depending.     Their  resolution  was 


208    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

taken  promptly.  There  was  no  time  for  talk.  Af- 
ter nightfall  a  strong  flood  tide  would  be  setting  up 
along  shore  to  the  Spanish  anchorage.  They  would 
try  what  could  be  done  with  fire  ships,  and  the  ex- 
cursion of  the  pinnace,  which  was  taken  for  bravado, 
was  probably  for  a  survey  of  the  Armada's  exact 
position.  Meantime  eight  useless  vessels  were 
coated  with  pitch — ^hulls,  spars,  and  riggiag.  Pitch 
was  poured  on  the  decks  and  over  the  sides,  and 
parties  were  told  off  to  steer  them  to  their  destina- 
tion and  then  fire  and  leave  them. 

The  hours  stole  on,  and  twilight  passed  into  dark. 
The  night  was  without  a  moon.  The  Duke  paced 
his  deck  late  with  uneasy  sense  of  danger.  He  ob- 
served lights  moving  up  and  down  the  English  lines, 
and  imagining  that  the  endemoniada  gente — the  in- 
fernal devils — might  be  up  to  mischief,  ordered  a 
sharp  look-out.  A  faint  westerly  air  was  curling 
the  water,  and  towards  midnight  the  watchers  on 
board  the  galleons  made  out  dimly  several  ships 
which  seemed  to  be  drifting  down  upon  them.  Their 
experience  since  the  action  off  Plymouth  had  been 
so  strange  and  unlooked  for  that  anything  unintel- 
ligible which  the  English  did  was  alarming. 

The  phantom  forms  drew  nearer,  and  were  almost 
among  them  when  they  broke  into  a  blaze  from 
water-line  to  truck,  and  the  two  fleets  were  seen  by 
the  lurid  light  of  the  conflagration ;  the  anchorage, 
the  walls  and  windows  of  Calais,  and  the  sea  shining 
red  far  as  eye  could  reach,  as  if  the  ocean  itself  was 
burning.     Among  the   dangers  which  they  might 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  209 

have  to  encounter,  English  fireworks  had  been  es- 
pecially dreaded  by  the  Spaniards.  Fire  ships — a 
fit  device  of  heretics — had  worked  havoc  among  the 
Spanish  troops,  when  the  bridge  was  blown  up,  at 
Antwerp.  They  imagined  that  similar  infernal  ma- 
chines were  approaching  the  Armada.  A  capable 
commander  would  have  sent  a  few  launches  to  grap- 
ple the  burning  hulks,  which  of  course  were  now  de- 
serted, and  tow  them  out  of  harm's  way.  Spanish 
sailors  were  not  cowards,  and  would  not  have 
flinched  from  duty  because  it  might  be  dangerous  ; 
but  the  Duke  and  Diego  Florez  lost  their  heads 
again.  A  signal  gun  from  the  San  Martin  ordered 
the  whole  fleet  to  slip  their  cables  and  stand  out 
to  sea. 

Orders  given  in  panic  are  doubly  unwise,  for  they 
spread  the  terror  in  which  they  originate.  The  dan- 
ger from  the  fire  ships  was  chiefly  from  the  effect 
on  the  imagination,  for  they  appear  to  have  drifted 
by  and  done  no  real  injury.  And  it  speaks  well  for 
the  seamanship  and  courage  of  the  Spaniards  that 
they  were  able,  crowded  together  as  they  were,  at 
midnight  and  in  sudden  alarm  to  set  their  canvas  and 
clear  out  without  running  into  one  another.  They 
buoyed  their  cables,  expecting  to  return  for  them  at 
daylight,  and  with  only  a  single  accident,  to  be 
mentioned  directly,  they  executed  successfully  a 
really  difficult  manoeuvre. 

The  Duke  was  delighted  with  himself.  The  fire 
ships  burned  harmlessly  out.  He  had  baffled  the 
inventions  of  the  endemoniada  gente.  He  brought 
14 


210    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

up  a  league  outside  the  harbour,  and  supposed  that 
the  whole  Armada  had  done  the  same.  Unluckily 
for  himself,  he  found  it  at  daylight  divided  into  two 
bodies.  The  San  Martin  with  forty  of  the  best  ap- 
pointed of  the  galleons  were  riding  together  at  their 
anchors.  The  rest,  two-thirds  of  the  whole,  having 
no  second  anchors  ready,  and  inexperienced  in 
Channel  tides  and  currents,  had  been  lying  to.  The 
west  wind  was  blowing  up.  Without  seeing  where 
they  were  going  they  had  drifted  to  leeward,  and 
were  two  leagues  off,  towards  Gravelines,  danger- 
ously near  the  shore.  The  Duke  was  too  ignorant 
to  realise  the  full  perU  of  his  situation.  He  sig- 
nalled to  them  to  return  and  rejoin  him.  As  the 
wind  and  tide  stood  it  was  impossible.  He  pro- 
posed to  follow  them.  The  pilots  told  him  that  if 
he  did  the  whole  fleet  might  be  lost  on  the  banks. 
Towards  the  land  the  look  of  things  was  not  more 
encouraging. 

One  accident  only  had  happened  the  night  before. 
The  Capitana  galleass,  with  Don  Hugo  de  MonQada 
and  eight  hundred  men  on  board,  had  fouled  her 
helm  in  a  cable  in  getting  under  way  and  had  be- 
come unmanageable.  The  galley  slaves  disobeyed 
orders,  or  else  Don  Hugo  was  as  incompetent  as  his 
commander-in-chief.  The  galleass  had  gone  on  the 
sands,  and  as  the  tide  ebbed  had  fallen  over  on  her 
side.  Howard,  seeing  her  condition,  had  followed 
her  in  the  Ark  with  four  or  five  other  of  the  Queen's 
ships,  and  was  furiously  attacking  her  with  his 
boats,  careless  of  neutrality  laws.     Howard's  theory 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  211 

was,  as  he  said,  to  pluck  the  feathers  one  by  one 
from  the  Spaniard's  wing,  and  here  was  a  feather 
worth  picking  up.  The  galleass  was  the  most  splen- 
did vessel  of  her  kind  afloat,  Don  Hugo  one  of  the 
greatest  of  Spanish  grandees. 

Howard  was  making  a  double  mistake.  He  took 
the  galleass  at  last,  after  three  hours'  fighting.  Don 
Hugo  was  killed  by  a  musket  ball.  The  vessel  was 
plundered,  and  Howard's  men  took  possession, 
meaning  to  carry  her  away  when  the  tide  rose.  The 
French  authorities  ordered  him  off,  threatening  to 
fire  upon  him ;  and  after  wasting  the  forenoon,  he 
was  obliged  at  last  to  leave  her  where  she  lay. 
Worse  than  this,  he  had  lost  three  precious  hours, 
and  had  lost  along  with  them,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
Prince  of  Parma,  the  honours  of  the  great  day. 

Drake  and  Hawkins  knew  better  than  to  waste 
time  plucking  single  feathers.  The  fire  ships  had 
been  more  effective  than  they  could  have  dared  to 
hope.  The  enemy  was  broken  up.  The  Duke  was 
shorn  of  half  his  strength,  and  the  Lord  had  de- 
livered him  into  their  hand.  He  had  got  under 
way,  still  signalling  wildly,  and  uncertain  in  which 
direction  to  turn.  His  uncertainties  were  ended 
for  him  by  seeing  Drake  bearing  down  upon  him 
with  the  whole  English  fleet,  save  those  which  were 
loitering  about  the  galleass.  The  English  had  now 
the  advantage  of  numbers.  The  superiority  of  their 
guns  he  knew  already,  and  their  greater  speed  al- 
lowed him  no  hope  to  escape  a  battle.  Forty  ships 
alone  were  left  to  him  to  defend  the  banner  of  the 


212    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

crusade  and  the  honour  of  Castile ;  but  those  forty 
were  the  largest  and  the  most  powerfully  armed  and 
manned  that  he  had,  and  on  board  them  were 
Oquendo,  De  Leyva,  Recalde,  and  Bretandona,  the 
best  officers  in  the  Spanish  navy  next  to  the  lost 
Don  Pedro. 

It  was  now  or  never  for  England.  The  scene  of 
the  action  which  was  to  decide  the  future  of  Europe 
was  between  Calais  and  Dunkirk,  a  few  miles  off 
shore,  and  within  sight  of  Parma's  camp.  There 
was  no  more  manoeuvring  for  the  weather-gage,  no 
more  fighting  at  long  range.  Drake  dashed  straight 
upon  his  prey  as  the  falcon  stoops  upon  its  quarry. 
A  chance  had  fallen  to  him  which  might  never  re- 
turn ;  not  for  the  vain  distinction  of  carrying  prizes 
into  English  ports,  not  for  the  ray  of  honour  which 
would  fall  on  him  if  he  could  carry  off  the  sacred 
banner  itseK  and  hang  it  in  the  Abbey  at  West- 
minster, but  a  chance  so  to  handle  the  Armada  that 
it  should  never  be  seen  again  in  English  waters,  and 
deal  such  a  blow  on  Philip  that  the  Spanish  Empire 
should  reel  with  it.  The  English  ships  had  the 
same  superiority  over  the  galleons  which  steam- 
ers have  now  over  sailing  vessels.  They  had  twice 
the  speed ;  they  could  lie  two  points  nearer  to  the 
wind.  Sweeping  round  them  at  cable's  length, 
crowding  them  in  one  upon  the  other,  yet  never 
once  giving  them  a  chance  to  grapple,  they  hurled 
in  their  cataracts  of  round  shot.  Short  as  was  the 
powder  supply,  there  was  no  sparing  it  that  morn- 
ing.    The  hours  went  on,  and  still  the  battle  raged, 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  213 

if  battle  it  could  be  called  where  tlie  blows  were  all 
dealt  on  one  side  and  the  suffering  was  all  on  the 
other.  Never  on  sea  or  land  did  the  Spaniards  show 
themselves  worthier  of  their  great  name  than  on  that 
day.  But  from  the  first  they  could  do  nothing.  It 
was  said  afterwards  in  Spain  that  the  Duke  showed 
the  white  feather,  that  he  charged  his  pilot  to  keep 
him  out  of  harm's  way,  that  he  shut  himself  up  in 
his  cabin,  buried  in  woolpacks,  and  so  on.  The 
Duke  had  faults  enough,  but  poltroonery  was  not 
one  of  them.  He,  who  till  he  entered  the  English 
Channel  had  never  been  in  action  on  sea  or  land, 
found  himself,  as  he  said,  in  the  midst  of  the  most 
furious  engagement  recorded  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  As  to  being  out  of  harm's  way,  the  standard 
at  his  masthead  drew  the  hottest  of  the  fire  upon 
him.  The  San  Martin's  timbers  were  of  oak  and  a 
foot  thick,  but  the  shot,  he  said,  went  through  them 
enough  to  shatter  a  rock.  Her  deck  was  a  slaugh- 
terhouse ;  half  his  company  were  killed  or  wounded, 
and  no  more  would  have  been  heard  or  seen  of  the 
San  Martin  or  her  commander  had  not  Oquendo 
and  De  Leyva  pushed  in  to  the  rescue  and  enabled 
him  to  creep  away  under  their  cover.  He  himself 
saw  nothing  more  of  the  action  after  this.  The 
smoke,  he  said,  was  so  thick  that  he  could  make  out 
nothing,  even  from  his  masthead.  But  all  round  it 
was  but  a  repetition  of  the  same  scene.  The  Span- 
ish shot  flew  high,  as  before,  above  the  low  English 
hulls,  and  they  were  themselves  helpless  butts  to 
the  English  guns.     And  it  is  noticeable  and  su* 


214    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

premely  creditable  to  them  that  not  a  single  galleon 
struck  her  colours.  One  of  them,  after  a  long  duel 
with  an  Englishman,  was  on  the  point  of  sinking. 
An  English  officer,  admiring  the  courage  which  the 
Spaniards  had  shown,  ran  out  upon  his  bowsprit, 
told  them  that  they  had  done  all  which  became  men, 
and  urged  them  to  surrender  and  save  their  lives. 
For  answer  they  cursed  the  English  as  cowards  and 
chickens  because  they  refused  to  close.  The  officer 
was  shot.  His  fall  brought  a  last  broadside  on  them, 
which  finished  the  work.  They  went  down,  and  the 
water  closed  over  them.  Rather  death  to  the  sol- 
diers of  the  Cross  than  surrender  to  a  heretic. 

The  deadly  hail  rained  on.  In  some  ships  blood 
Was  seen  streaming  out  of  the  scupper-holes.  Yet 
there  was  no  yielding ;  all  ranks  showed  equal  hero- 
ism. The  priests  went  up  and  down  in  the  midst 
of  the  carnage,  holding  the  crucifix  before  the  eyes 
of  the  dying.  At  midday  Howard  came  up  to  claim 
a  second  share  in  a  victory  which  was  no  longer 
doubtful.  Towards  the  afternoon  the  Spanish  fire 
slackened.  Their  powder  was  gone,  and  they  could 
make  no  return  to  the  cannonade  which  was  still 
overwhelming  them.  They  admitted  freely  after- 
wards that  if  the  attack  had  been  continued  but  two 
hours  more  they  must  all  have  struck  or  gone  ashore. 
But  the  English  magazines  were  empty  also;  the 
last  cartridge  was  shot  away,  and  the  battle  ended 
from  mere  inability  to  keep  it  up.  It  had  been 
fought  on  both  sides  vnih.  peculiar  determination. 
In  the  English  there  was  the  accumulated  resent- 


Defeai  of  the  Armada  215 

ment  of  thirty  years  of  menace  to  their  country  and 
their  creed,  with  the  enemy  in  tangible  shape  at  last 
to  be  caught  and  grappled  with ;  in  the  Spanish, 
the  sense  that  if  their  cause  had  not  brought  them 
the  help  they  looked  for  from  above,  the  hon- 
our and  faith  of  Castile  should  not  suffer  in  their 
hands. 

It  was  over.  The  English  drew  off,  regretting 
that  their  thrifty  mistress  had  limited  their  means 
of  fighting  for  her,  and  so  obliged  them  to  leave 
their  work  half  done.  When  the  cannon  ceased 
the  wind  rose,  the  smoke  rolled  away,  and  in  the 
level  light  of  the  sunset  they  could  see  the  results 
of  the  action. 

A  galleon  in  Recalde's  squadron  was  sinking  with 
all  hands.  The  San  Philip  and  the  San  Matteo 
were  drifting  dismasted  towards  the  Dutch  coast, 
where  they  were  afterwards  wrecked.  Those  which 
were  left  with  canvas  still  showing  were  crawling 
slowly  after  their  comrades  who  had  not  been 
engaged,  the  spars  and  rigging  so  cut  up  that  they 
could  scarce  bear  their  sails.  The  loss  of  life 
could  only  be  conjectured,  but  it  had  been  obviously 
terrible.  The  nor'-wester  was  blowing  up  and  was 
pressing  the  wounded  ships  upon  the  shoals,  from 
which,  if  it  held,  it  seemed  impossible  in  their 
crippled  state  they  would  be  able  to  work  off. 

In  this  condition  Drake  left  them  for  the  night, 
not  to  rest,  but  from  any  quarter  to  collect,  if  he 
could,  more  food  and  powder.  The  snake  had  been 
scotched,  but  not  killed.     More  than  half  the  great 


216    Erhglish  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

fleet  were  far  away,  untouclied  by  shot,  perhaps 
able  to  fight  a  second  battle  if  they  recovered  heart. 
To  f oUow,  to  drive  them  on  the  banks  if  the  wind 
held,  or  into  the  North  Sea,  anywhere  so  that  he 
left  them  no  chance  of  joining  hands  with  Parma 
again,  and  to  use  the  time  before  they  had  rallied 
from  his  blows,  that  was  the  present  necessity.  His 
own  poor  fellows  were  famished  and  in  rags;  but 
neither  he  nor  they  had  leisure  to  think  of  them- 
selves. There  was  but  one  thought  in  the  whole  of 
them,  to  be  again  in  chase  of  the  flying  foe.  Howard 
was  resolute  as  Drake.  All  that  was  possible  was 
swiftly  done.  Seymour  and  the  Thames  squadron 
were  to  stay  in  the  Straits  and  watch  Parma.  From 
every  attainable  source  food  and  powder  were 
collected  for  the  rest — far  short  in  both  ways  of 
what  ought  to  have  been,  but,  as  Drake  said,  *  we 
were  resolved  to  put  on  a  brag  and  go  on  as  if  we 
needed  nothing.'  Before  dawn  the  admiral  and  he 
were  again  off  on  the  chase. 

The  brag  was  unneeded.  What  man  could  do 
had  been  done,  and  the  rest  was  left  to  the  elements. 
Never  again  could  Spanish  seamen  be  brought  to 
face  the  English  guns  with  Medina  Sidonia  to  lead 
them.  They  had  a  fool  at  their  head.  The  Invisi- 
ble Powers  in  whom  they  had  been  taught  to  trust 
had  deserted  them.  Their  confidence  was  gone 
and  their  spirit  broken.  Drearily  the  morning 
broke  on  the  Duke  and  his  consorts  the  day  after 
the  battle.  The  Armada  had  collected  in  the  night. 
The  nor'-wester  had  freshened  to  a  gale,  and  they 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  217 

were  labouring  heavily  along,  making  fatal  leeway 
towards  the  shoals. 

It  was  St.  Lawrence's  Day,  Philip's  patron  saint, 
whose  shoulder-bone  he  had  lately  added  to  the 
treasures  of  the  Escurial ;  but  St.  Lawrence  was  as 
heedless  as  St.  Dominic.  The  San  Martin  had  but 
six  fathoms  under  her.  Those  nearer  to  the  land 
signalled  five,  and  right  before  them  they  could  see 
the  brown  foam  of  the  breakers  curling  over  the 
sands,  while  on  their  weather-beam,  a  mile  distant 
and  clinging  to  them  like  the  shadow  of  death,  were 
the  English  ships  which  had  pursued  them  from  Ply- 
mouth like  the  dogs  of  the  Furies.  The  Spanish 
sailors  and  soldiers  had  been  without  food  since 
the  evening  when  they  anchored  at  Calais.  All 
Sunday  they  had  been  at  work,  no  rest  allowed 
them  to  eat.  On  the  Sunday  night  they  had  been 
stirred  out  of  their  sleep  by  the  fire  ships.  Mon- 
day they  had  been  fighting,  and  Monday  night  com- 
mitting their  dead  to  the  sea.  Now  they  seemed 
advancing  directly  upon  inevitable  destruction.  As 
the  wind  stood  there  was  still  room  for  them  to 
wear  and  thus  escape  the  banks,  but  they  would 
then  have  to  face  the  enemy,  who  seemed  only 
refraining  from  attacking  them  because  while  they 
continued  on  their  present  course  the  winds  and 
waves  would  finish  the  work  without  help  from 
man.  Eecalde,  De  Leyva,  Oquendo,  and  other 
oflficers  were  sent  for  to  the  San  Martin  to  consult. 
Oquendo  came  last.  '  Ah,  Sefior  Oquendo,'  said  the 
Duke  as  the  heroic  Biscayan  stepped  on  board,  *  que 


218    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

haremos  ? '  (what  shall  we  do  ?)  '  Let  your  Ex- 
cellency bid  load  the  guns  again,'  was  Oquendos 
gallant  answer.  It  could  not  be.  De  Leyva  him- 
self said  that  the  men  would  not  fight  the  English 
again.  Florez  advised  surrender.  The  Duke 
wavered.  It  was  said  that  a  boat  was  actually 
lowered  to  go  off  to  Howard  and  make  terms,  and 
that  Oquendo  swore  that  if  the  boat  left  the  San 
Martin  on  such  an  errand  he  would  fling  Florez 
into  the  sea.  Oquendo's  advice  would  have,  per- 
haps, been  the  safest  if  the  Duke  could  have  taken 
it.  There  were  still  seventy  ships  in  the  Armada 
little  hurt.  The  English  were  '  bragging,'  as  Drake 
said,  and  in  no  condition  themselves  for  another 
serious  engagement.  But  the  temper  of  the  entire 
fleet  made  a  courageous  course  impossible.  There 
was  but  one  Oquendo.  Discipline  was  gone.  The 
soldiers  in  their  desperation  had  taken  the  com- 
mand out  of  the  hands  of  the  seamen.  Officers  and 
men  alike  abandoned  hope,  and,  with  no  human 
prospect  of  salvation  left  to  them,  they  flung  them- 
selves on  their  knees  upon  the  decks  and  prayed 
the  Almighty  to  have  pity  on  them.  But  two  weeks 
were  gone  since  they  had  knelt  on  those  same  decks 
on  the  first  sight  of  the  English  shore  to  thank 
Him  for  having  brought  them  so  far  on  an  enter- 
prise so  glorious.  Two  weeks ;  and  what  weeks ! 
Wrecked,  torn  by  cannon  shot,  ten  thousand  of 
them  dead  or  dying — for  this  was  the  estimated 
loss  by  battle — the  survivors  could  now  but  pray  to 
be  delivered  from  a  miserable  death  by  the  elements. 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  219 

In  cyclones  the  wind  often  changes  suddenly  back 
from  north-west  to  west,  from  west  to  south.  At 
that  moment,  as  if  in  answer  to  their  petition,  one 
of  these  sudden  shifts  of  wind  saved  them  from  the 
immediate  peril.  The  gale  backed  round  to  S.  S. 
W.,  and  ceased  to  press  them  on  the  shoals.  They 
could  ease  their  sheets,  draw  off  into  open  water, 
and  steer  a  course  up  the  middle  of  the  North 
Sea. 

So  only  that  they  went  north,  Drake  was  content 
to  leave  them  unmolested.  Once  away  into  the  high 
latitudes  they  might  go  where  they  would.  Neither 
Howard  nor  he,  in  the  low  state  of  their  own  maga- 
zines, desired  any  unnecessary  fighting.  If  the  Ar- 
mada turned  back  they  must  close  with  it.  If  it 
held  its  present  course  they  must  follow  it  till  they 
could  be  assured  it  would  communicate  no  more  for 
that  summer  with  the  Prince  of  Parma.  Drake 
thought  they  would  perhaps  make  for  the  Baltic  or 
some  port  in  Norway.  They  w^ould  meet  no  hos- 
pitable reception  from  either  Swedes  or  Danes,  but 
they  would  probably  try.  One  only  imminent 
danger  remained  to  be  provided  against.  If  they 
turned  into  the  Forth,  it  was  still  possible  for  the 
Spaniards  to  redeem  their  defeat,  and  even  yet 
shake  Elizabeth's  throne.  Among  the  many  plans 
which  had  been  formed  for  the  invasion  of  England, 
a  landing  in  Scotland  had  long  been  the  favourite. 
Guise  had  always  preferred  Scotland  when  it  was 
intended  that  Guise  should  be  the  leader.  Santa 
Cruz  had  been  in  close  correspondence  with  Guise 


220    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

on  this  very  subject,  and  many  officers  in  the  Ar- 
mada must  have  been  acqiiainted  with  Santa  Cruz's 
views.  The  Scotch  Catholic  nobles  were  still  sav- 
age at  Mary  Stuart's  execution,  and  had  the  Armada 
anchored  in  Leith  Roads  with  twenty  thousand 
men,  half  a  million  ducats,  and  a  Santa  Cruz  at  its 
head,  it  might  have  kindled  a  blaze  at  that  moment 
from  John  o'  Groat's  Land  to  the  Border. 

But  no  such  purpose  occurred  to  the  Duke  of 
Medina  Sidonia.  He  probably  knew  nothing  at  all 
of  Scotland  or  its  parties.  Among  the  many  defici- 
encies which  he  had  pleaded  to  Philip  as  unfitting 
him  for  the  command,  he  had  said  that  Santa  Cruz 
had  acquaintances  among  the  English  and  Scotch 
peers.  He  had  himself  none.  The  small  informa- 
tion which  he  had  of  anything  did  not  go  beyond 
his  orange  gardens  and  his  tunny  fishing.  His  chief 
merit  was  that  he  was  conscious  of  his  incapacity ; 
and,  detesting  a  service  into  which  he  had  been 
fooled  by  a  hysterical  nun,  his  only  anxiety  was  to 
carry  home  the  still  considerable  fleet  which  had 
been  trusted  to  him  without  further  loss.  Beyond 
Scotland  and  the  Scotch  isles  there  was  the  open 
ocean,  and  in  the  open  ocean  there  were  no  sand- 
banks and  no  English  guns.  Thus,  with  all  sail  set 
he  went  on  before  the  wind.  Drake  and  Howard 
attended  him  till  they  had  seen  him  past  the  Forth, 
and  knew  then  that  there  was  no  more  to  fear.  It 
was  time  to  see  to  the  wants  of  their  own  poor  fel- 
lows, who  had  endured  so  patiently  and  fought  so 
magnificently.     On  the  13th  of  August  they  saw  the 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  221 

last  of  the  Armada,  turned  back,  and  made  their 
way  to  the  Thames. 

Byt  the  story  has  yet  to  be  told  of  the  final  fate  of 
the  great  'enterprise  of  England'  (the  'empresa 
de  Inglaterra '),  the  object  of  so  many  prayers,  on 
which  the  hopes  of  the  Catholic  world  had  been 
so  long  and  passionately  fixed.  It  had  been  osten- 
tatiously a  religious  crusade.  The  preparations 
had  been  attended  with  peculiar  solemnities.  In 
the  eyes  of  the  faithful  it  was  to  be  the  execution  of 
Divine  justice  on  a  wicked  princess  and  a  wicked 
people.  In  the  eyes  of  millions  whose  convictions 
were  less  decided  it  was  an  appeal  to  God's  judg- 
ment to  decide  between  the  Reformation  and  the 
Pope.  There  was  an  appropriateness,  therefore,  if 
due  to  accident,  that  other  causes  besides  the  action 
of  man  should  have  combined  in  its  overthrow. 

The  Spaniards  were  experienced  sailors ;  a  voyage 
round  the  Orkneys  and  round  Ireland  to  Spain 
might  be  tedious,  but  at  that  season  of  the  year 
need  not  have  seemed  either  dangerous  or  difficult. 
On  inquiry,  however,  it  was  found  that  the  condi- 
tion of  the  fleet  was  seriously  alarming.  The  pro- 
visions placed  on  board  at  Lisbon  had  been  found 
imfit  for  food,  and  almost  all  had  been  thrown  into 
the  sea.  The  fresh  stores  taken  in  at  Corunna  had 
been  consumed,  and  it  was  found  that  at  the  present 
rate  there  would  be  nothing  left  in  a  fortnight. 
Worse  than  all,  the  water-casks  refilled  there  had 
been  carelessly  stowed.  They  had  been  shot  through 
in  the  fighting  and  were  empty ;  while  of  clothing 


222     English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

or  other  comforts  for  the  cold  regions  which  they 
were  entering  no  thought  had  been  taken.  The 
mules  and  horses  were  flung  overboard,  and  Scotch 
smacks,  which  had  followed  the  retreating  fleet,  re- 
ported that  they  had  sailed  for  miles  through  float- 
ing carcasses. 

The  rations  were  reduced  for  each  man  to  a  daily 
half-pound  of  biscuit,  a  pint  of  water,  and  a  pint 
of  wine.  Thus,  sick  and  hungry,  the  wounded  left 
to  the  care  of  a  medical  officer,  who  went  from  ship 
to  ship,  the  subjects  of  so  many  prayers  were  left  to 
encounter  the  climate  of  the  North  Atlantic.  The 
Duke  blamed  all  but  himself ;  he  hanged  one  poor 
captain  for  neglect  of  orders,  and  would  have  hanged 
another  had  he  dared ;  but  his  authority  was  gone. 
They  passed  the  Orkneys  in  a  single  body.  They 
then  parted,  it  was  said  in  a  fog;  but  each  com- 
mander had  to  look  out  for  himself  and  his  men. 
In  many  ships  water  must  be  had  somewhere,  or 
they  would  die.  The  San  Martin,  with  sixty  con- 
sorts, went  north  to  the  sixtieth  parallel.  From 
that  height  the  pilots  promised  to  take  them  down 
clear  of  the  coast.  The  wind  still  clung  to  the  west, 
each  day  blowing  harder  than  the  last.  When  they 
braced  round  to  it  their  wounded  spars  gave  way. 
Their  rigging  parted.  With  the  greatest  difficulty 
they  made  at  last  sufficient  offing,  and  rolled  down 
somehow  out  of  sight  of  land,  dipping  their  yards  in 
the  enormous  seas.  Of  the  rest,  one  or  two  went 
down  among  the  Western  Isles  and  became  wrecks 
there,  their  crews,  or  part  of  them,  making  their 


Defecd  of  the  Armada  223 

way  through  Scotland  to  Flanders.     Others  went 
north  to  Shetland  or  the  Faroe  Islands.     Between 
thirty  and  forty  were  tempted  in  upon  the  Irish 
coasts.     There  were  Irishmen  in  the  fleet,  who  must 
have  told  them  that  they  would  find  the  water  there 
for  which  they  were  perishing,  safe  harbours,  and  a 
friendly  Catholic  people ;    and  they  found  either 
harbours  which  they  could  not  reach  or  sea-washed 
sands  and  reefs.     They  were  all  wrecked  at  various 
places  between  Donegal  and  the  Blaskets.    Some- 
thing like  eight   thousand  haK-drowned   wretches 
struggled  on  shore  alive.     Many  were  gentlemen, 
richly  dressed,  with  velvet  coats,  gold  chains,  and 
rings.     The  common  sailors  and  soldiers  had  been 
paid  their  wages  before  they  started,  and  each  had 
a  bag  of  ducats  lashed  to  his  waist  when  he  landed 
through   the   surf.      The   wild  Irish  of  the  coast, 
tempted  by  the  booty,  knocked  unknown  numbers 
of  them   on   the  head   with  their    battle-axes,   or 
stripped  them  naked  and  left  them  to  die  of  the 
cold.     On  one  long  sand  strip  in  Sligo  an  English 
ofl&cer  counted  eleven  hundred  bodies,  and  he  heard 
that  there  were  as  many  more  a  few  miles  distant. 
The  better-educated   of    the   Ulster  chiefs,   the 
O'Eourke  and  O'Donnell,  hurried  down  to  stop  the 
butchery  and  spare  Ireland  the  shame  of  murdering 
helpless  Catholic  friends.     Many — how  many  can- 
not be  said — found  protection  in  their  castles.     But 
even  so  it  seemed  as  if  some  inexorable  fate  pur- 
sued all  who  had  sailed  in  that  doomed  expedi- 
tion.   Alonzo  de  Leyva,  with  half  a  hundred  young 


224    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

Spanisli  nobles  of  high  rank  who  were  under  his 
special  charge,  made  his  way  in  a  galleass  into 
Killibeg.  He  was  himself  disabled  in  landing. 
O'Donnell  received  and  took  care  of  him  and  his 
companions.  After  remaining  in  O'Donnell's  castle 
for  a  month  he  recovered.  The  weather  appeared 
to  mend.  The  galleass  was  patched  up,  and  De 
Leyva  ventured  an  attempt  to  make  his  way  in  her 
to  Scotland.  He  had  passed  the  worst  danger,  and 
Scotland  was  almost  in  sight ;  but  fate  would  have 
its  victims.  The  galleass  struck  a  rock  off  Dunluce 
and  went  to  pieces,  and  Don  Alonzo  and  the 
princely  youths  who  had  sailed  with  him  were 
washed  ashore  all  dead,  to  find  an  unmarked  grave 
in  Antrim. 

Most  pitiful  of  all  was  the  fate  of  those  who  feU 
into  the  hands  of  the  English  garrisons  in  Galway 
and  Mayo.  Galleons  had  found  their  way  into 
Galway  Bay — one  of  them  had  reached  Galway 
itself — the  crews  haK  dead  with  famine  and 
offering  a  cask  of  wine  for  a  cask  of  water.  The 
Galway  townsmen  were  human,  and  tried  to  feed 
and  care  for  them.  Most  were  too  far  gone  to  be 
revived,  and  died  of  exhaustion.  Some  might  have 
recovered,  but  recovered  they  would  be  a  danger  to 
the  State.  The  English  in  the  West  of  Ireland 
were  but  a  handful  in  the  midst  of  a  sullen,  half- 
conquered  population.  The  ashes  of  the  Desmond 
rebellion  were  still  smoking,  and  Dr.  Sanders  and 
his  Legatine  Commission  were  fresh  in  immedi- 
ate memory.     The  defeat  of  the  Armada  in  the 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  225 

Channel  could  only  have  been  vaguely  heard  of. 
All  that  English  officers  could  have  accurately 
known  must  have  been  that  an  enormous  expedition 
had  been  sent  to  England  by  Philip  to  restore 
the  Pope  ;  and  Spaniards,  they  found,  were  landing 
in  thousands  in  the  midst  of  them  with  arms  and 
money;  distressed  for  the  moment,  but  sure,  if 
allowed  time  to  get  their  strength  again,  to  set 
Connaught  in  a  blaze.  They  had  no  fortresses  to 
hold  so  many  prisoners,  no  means  of  feeding  them, 
no  men  to  spare  to  escort  them  to  Dublin.  They 
were  responsible  to  the  Queen's  Government  for 
the  safety  of  the  country.  The  Spaniards  had  not 
come  on  any  errand  of  mercy  to  her  or  hers.  The 
stem  order  went  out  to  kill  them  all  wherever  they 
might  be  found,  and  two  thousand  or  more  were 
shot,  hanged,  or  put  to  the  sword.  Dreadful ! 
Yes,  but  war  itself  is  dreadful  and  has  its  own  ne- 
cessities. 

The  sixty  ships  which  had  followed  the  San 
Martin  succeeded  at  last  in  getting  round  Cape 
Clear,  but  in  a  condition  scarcely  less  miserable 
than  that  of  their  companions  who  had  perished 
in  Ireland.  Half  their  companions  died — died  of 
untended  wounds,  hunger,  thirst,  and  famine  fever. 
The  survivors  were  moving  skeletons,  more  shadows 
and  ghosts  than  living  men,  with  scarce  strength 
left  them  to  draw  a  rope  or  handle  a  tiller.  In 
some  ships  there  was  no  water  for  fourteen  days. 
The  weather  in  the  lower  latitudes  lost  part  of  its 
violence,  or  not  one  of  them  would  have  seen  Spain 
15 


226    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

again.  As  it  was  they  drifted  on  outside  Scilly  and 
into  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  and  in  the  second  week  of 
September  they  dropped  in  one  by  one.  Recalde, 
with  better  success  than  the  rest,  made  Corunna. 
The  Duke,  not  knowing  where  he  was,  found  him- 
self in  sight  of  Corunna  also.  The  crew  of  the  San 
Martin  were  prostrate,  and  could  not  work  her  in. 
They  signalled  for  help,  but  none  came,  and  they 
dropped  away  to  leeward  to  Bilbao.  Oquendo  had 
fallen  off  still  farther  to  Santander,  and  the  rest  of 
the  sixty  arrived  in  the  following  days  at  one  or 
other  of  the  Biscay  ports.  On  board  them,  of  the 
thirty  thousand  who  had  left  those  shores  but  two 
months  before  in  high  hope  and  passionate  en- 
thusiasm, nine  thousand  only  came  back  alive — if 
alive  they  could  be  called.  It  is  touching  to  read 
in  a  letter  from  Bilbao  of  their  joy  at  warm  Spanish 
sun,  the  sight  of  the  grapes  on  the  white  walls, 
and  the  taste  of  fresh  home  bread  and  water  again. 
But  it  came  too  late  to  save  them,  and  those 
whose  bodies  might  have  rallied  died  of  broken 
hearts  and  disappointed  dreams.  Santa  Cruz's  old 
companions  could  not  survive  the  ruin  of  the 
Spanish  navy.  Recalde  died  two  days  after  he 
landed  at  Bilbao.  Santander  was  Oquendo's  home. 
He  had  a  wife  and  children  there,  but  he  refused 
to  see  them,  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  died 
too.  The  common  seamen  and  soldiers  were  too 
weak  to  help  themselves.  They  had  to  be  left  on 
board  the  poisoned  ships  till  hospitals  could  be 
prepared  to  take    them    in.    The    authorities    of 


Defeat  of  the  Armada  227 

Church  and  State  did  all  that  men  could  do  ;  but 
the  case  was  past  help,  and  before  September 
was  out  all  but  a  few  hundred  needed  no  further 
care. 

Philip,  it  must  be  said  for  him,  spared  nothing  to 
relieve  the  misery.  The  widows  and  orphans  were 
pensioned  by  the  State.  The  stroke  which  had 
fallen  was  received  with  a  dignified  submission  to 
the  inscrutable  purposes  of  Heaven.  Diego  Florez 
escaped  with  a  brief  imprisonment  at  Burgos. 
None  else  were  punished  for  faults  which  lay 
chiefly  in  the  King's  own  presumption  in  imagining 
himseK  the  instrument  of  Providence. 

The  Duke  thought  himself  more  sinned  against 
than  sinning.  He  did  not  die,  like  Recalde  or 
Oquendo,  seeing  no  occasion  for  it.  He  flung 
down  his  command  and  retired  to  his  palace  at  St. 
Lucan  ;  and  so  far  was  Philip  from  resenting  the 
loss  of  the  Armada  on  its  commander,  that  he  con- 
tinued him  in  his  governorship  of  Cadiz,  where 
Essex  found  him  seven  years  later,  and  where  he 
ran  from  Essex  as  he  had  run  from  Drake. 

The  Spaniards  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  the 
greatness  of  their  defeat.  Unwilling  to  allow  that 
the  Upper  Powers  had  been  against  them,  they  set 
it  frankly  down  to  the  superior  fighting  powers  of 
the  English. 

The  English  themselves,  the  Prince  of  Parma 
said,  were  modest  in  their  victory.  They  thought 
little  of  their  own  gallantry.  To  them  the  defeat 
and  destruction  of  the  Spanish  fleet  was  a  declara- 


228    English  Seamen  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

tion  of  the  Almighty  in  the  cause  of  their  country 
and  the  Protestant  faith.  Both  sides  had  appealed 
to  Heaven,  and  Heaven  had  spoken. 

It  was  the  turn  of  the  tide.  The  wave  of  the 
reconquest  of  the  Netherlands  ebbed  from  that 
moment.  Parma  took  no  more  towns  from  the 
Hollanders.  The  Catholic  peers  and  gentlemen  of 
England,  who  had  held  aloof  from  the  Established 
Church,  waiting  ad  illud  tempus  for  a  religious  revo- 
lution, accepted  the  verdict  of  Providence.  They 
discovered  that  in  Anglicanism  they  could  keep  the 
faith  of  their  fathers,  yet  remain  in  communion 
with  their  Protestant  fellow-countrymen,  use  the 
same  liturgy,  and  pray  in  the  same  temples.  For 
the  first  time  since  Elizabeth's  father  broke  the 
bonds  of  Eome  the  English  became  a  united  nation, 
joined  in  loyal  enthusiasm  for  the  Queen,  and  were 
satisfied  that  thenceforward  no  Italian  priest  should 
tithe  or  toll  in  her  dominions. 

But  all  that,  and  all  that  went  with  it,  the  pass- 
ing from  Spain  to  England  of  the  sceptre  of  the 
seas,  must  be  left  to  other  lectures,  or  other  lectur- 
ers who  have  more  years  before  them  than  I.  My 
own  theme  has  been  the  poor  Protestant  adventur- 
ers who  fought  through  that  perilous  week  in  the 
English  Channel  and  saved  their  country  and  ther: 
country's  liberty. 


THE  WORKS  OF 

James  Anthony  Froude. 


Mr.  Froude  and  his  Writings. 


G.  W.  Smalley.— "  What  need  to  say  more  of  Froude's  style?  Simple, 
rapid,  picturesque,  natural  with  the  naturalness  of  the  highest  art,  suffused 
with  deep  feeling,  striking  every  note  as  the  subject  changes ;  now  heroic, 
now  colloquial,  and  sometimes  even  careless— its  flexibility  and  the  nice 
adaptation  to  the  matter  in  hand  are  alike  admirable  and  inimitable." 

Noah  Porter  in  "  Books  and  Reading."—"  His  merits  as  a  writer  are 
universally  acknowledged,  and  he  has  set  forth  in  bold  relief  an  important 
class  of  facts  concerning  the  people  of  England  and  the  state  of  the  times." 

Charles  Kendall  Adams.—"  His  style  is  remarkable  for  its  perspicuity, 
his  narrative  is  vivacious,  his  theories  are  ingenious." 

M.  W.  Hazeltine,  in  New  York  Sun. — "  One  of  the  most  accomplished 
and  attractive  writers  of  his  time." 

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and  profound  study,  but  he  is  calmer  and  more  natural  in  his  tone,  more 
thoughtful  in  his  remarks  on  events,  more  unaffected  in  his  narrative,  and 
more  simple  and  lifelike  in  his  portraits.  In  the  main  he  is  a  pictorial 
historian,  and  his  skill  in  description  and  fullness  of  knowledge  make  his 
work  abound  in  scenes  and  passages  that  are  almost  new  to  the  general 
reader." 

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indispensable  in  vivifying  past  events,  and  are  so  useful  in  depicting  present 
Material  scenes." 


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CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

.  FIFTH  AVENUE  AT  48TH  STREET,  NEW  YORK 


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